


Why We Love Willow

by Ladycat, winterlive



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Bondage, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, M/M, Magic, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-11
Updated: 2005-06-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:33:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladycat/pseuds/Ladycat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterlive/pseuds/winterlive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Something Blue, Willow made Xander a demon magnet -- except only the skankiest of demons decided to play with the pretty. What if Spike decided that Xander was tasty-looking, along with the rest of demonic Sunnydale? What would he do</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Xander pulled Anya into an alcove as they raced down the empty alleyway and clapped a hand over her mouth. He stood, silent and panting, praying the demons chasing them wouldn't notice. They went running by, Larry, Curly and Moe, as Xander had dubbed them, flashes of horns and scales, mucus footprints left behind.

_Giles. Gotta get to Giles._

In his arms, Anya was stiff and angry, but blessedly still. Cautiously, Xander poked his head out of the little nook to check the coast for clearness.

* * *

"Oh, will you just go on ahead!" Spike snarled at Buffy. "I'll go back to the shop like a good little lad, but I'm not walking next to you and that cloud of perfume you drench yourself in. _Some_ of us have a predator’s sense of smell!"

Buffy flounced and did her girly version of a snarl -- not nearly as pretty as Dru's had been -- and finally stomped off, muttering threats if Spike did not, in fact, go right back to Giles the way he'd promised.

Spike waited until she disappeared over the rise. _Thank Christ. Thought she'd never leave._ Holding himself absolutely still, Spike _smelled_. Scented. There was something in the air that smelled fantastic, and now that Buffy was gone, he just needed a moment to orient where it was --

And what the hell other demons were doing, getting close to it!

Roaring, Spike sprinted through Giles' courtyard and into an alley nearby, to where several demons converged on a huddled couple. "Mine," he snarled at them, efficiently dispatching all three demons into mulch before turning around to see what the hell smelled _that_ good.

All he saw were Anya and Xander. _Oh, please tell me it's Anya._

* * *

"Spike," Xander sneered, lip curling.

"Spike!" Anya exclaimed, "you saved us!" She smiled happily and pushed Xander away to go drape her arms over her savior. Xander watched her, aghast.

* * *

Spike knew the second Anya touched him that she wasn't the one that smelled so good. _Fuck. Buggering fuck, it’s Xander. Why the hell does **he** have to be the one to smell like a gourmet course of Slayer's blood, liberally sprinkled with Sire's? He didn’t smell good enough_ already?

"Er, right," he said aloud, trying to extricate himself from Anya's clinging shape. "Just ... bein' nice. Or something." Xander made a move out of his protective alcove and Spike stopped caring that it was Xander and instead thought _mine!_. Diving forward, Spike quickly trapped him back inside. "Where do you think you're going, then, pet?" he purred.

* * *

Xander shrank back against his wall, both horrified and grateful. Horrified, because Spike was, uh... being Spike, only he was being the Spike that Spike usually was to Buffy, only to _him_...

Xander took a moment to be grateful that the force of Anya's fury was no longer directed at him, but then Anya set her hands on her hips and glared at Spike, and it was clear: the contest had just begun. "Hey," she demanded, indignant. "You're supposed to save the _damsel_ in distress. Even I know that, and I'm a demon! Or, I was..."

Spike paid her no attention, choosing instead to focus on Xander (very alarming!) and Anya rolled her eyes and swished off. "Fine," she tossed over her shoulder, "Xander, I'll see you later. I'm sure _Spike_ can protect you. Damn things are only going after you anyway."

"Anya!" Xander was concerned. For her safety. He was sure she was wrong about those demons, they could be going after her too. She unquestionably should not have left him alone with...

* * *

"Let her go, pet," Spike instructed. She was irrelevant. Just about everything was in the face of the deliciousness before him. "She's right, anyway. God, you smell ... " Inhaling deeply, Spike allowed the scent to roll over him, soaking into his skin. Then he smiled a bright, toothy smile. "… good."

Terrified-Xander smelled even better.

"Come on, pet." Coaxing now, because he wanted to go out, away, where nothing else could smell what was _Spike's_ now. "Let's get out of here. Want to see if you taste as good as you smell."

* * *

_What?_ "What?" _Whoa!_ "Whoa!"

Xander put his hands against Spike's chest and pushed. _Vampire much too close to mortal! Distance is important!_ He pushed hard, trying his level best not to completely freak out.

Spike did not budge.

_Okay. Subtle hints not working. Time to get mouthy. Talky!_ "Spike," Xander reasoned, "drugs and vampirism do not mix. Unless you've recently had a chipectomy, there will be no... _tasting_."

* * *

Spike knew damned well how wicked this grin looked; minions and dinners made effective mirrors. "Oh, no?" Pushing Xander -- _gently, so fucking gently_ \-- back against the wall, Spike's head darted forward to lick a broad path from shoulder to jaw.

And damned near came in his pants.

"Oh, yeah," he purred, moving even closer, fitting their bodies together. "You taste _good_ , pet. Gonna taste you everywhere I want, get as much of this as I need... "

* * *

Xander's thought process was stuck in neutral, his mental wheels spinning in the...

Spike. His brain played with the permutations of the phrase 'Spike licked me', trying out the emphasis on every word and finding that all were plausible. Then, as he was trying out two words at once, Spike began to talk.

_“...taste you everywhere...”_

_WHOA!_ This time he did push, hard, and Spike stumbled back. Xander darted out into the alley, blindly tripping over a wayward box and landing right on his ass. When he looked up, Spike had his bearings and was advancing. This was not happening. This was impossible, it was...

Magic! Obviously! "Ah ha!" he shouted, as though catching Spike in a lie, pointing his finger. Spike paused, momentary concern on his face, and looked around for some threat. "You're magicked! Jinxed! Bedazzled!" Xander burst out. "There's something Hellmouthy in Denmark, and I am lookin’ at him! We gotta get to Giles..."

* * *

Spike growled, low and menacing. "And let _him_ have you? Not a chance. You're _mine_ now."

Of course, the lumbering stomp of several demons filtered through street noise to inform Spike that several other demons had the same idea. _No chance. I'm William the Bloody and this boy is_ mine _. Angelus gave him to me, and I'm not letting go._

Grabbing Xander's arm as tightly as he dared, Spike hauled him up and slightly behind him. "Hang on," he growled, "take care of this shortly."

* * *

It was on the tip of Xander's tongue to deny Spike's insane claim, but when he saw the dinosaurs coming down the street he decided to let the loopy vampire think whatever he wanted, so long as he was between the demons and Xander.

The fight went fast. Spike made mincemeat out of the bad guys, fighting with a ferocity Xander hadn't seen in a while. There wasn't any of the trademark Spike glee for violence, just rage.

It was extremely intimidating, actually, and even though Xander knew Spike couldn't hurt him, he found in himself the tiniest bit of respect for the vicious creature. He'd seen enough violence for long enough now that he knew competent fighting when he saw it. This wasn't just random destruction. It was _art_.

* * *

Spike was savage in his destruction. _Gonna send a message. This one is mine, now, and nobody touches him but me._ To that end, he made sure that one little creature, almost terrier-like, that had slinked in towards the end of the massacre stayed alive.

Snatching it up, Spike shook it until it whimpered, hissing through his fangs. "This one's _mine_ ," he growled. "Spread the word. No one touches him. No one even fucking _looks_ at him. Mine." The little demon whimpered and whined, its bright green eyes lowered in submission. Good. Chucking the thing away, Spike turned back to make sure Xander hadn't taken it into his head to dash off. Not that Spike wouldn't follow, a demented Pepe Le Pew, but he didn't want to have to.

"Good," he growled when he saw Xander where he'd been left. Reaching his side, Spike hauled the boy close, sniffing and nuzzling his neck. "That goes for you, too, pet. Mine now."

He bit down very, very gently. Not intending to hurt, not wanting to cause any pain but the good kind. Skin bunched between his teeth, the taste exploding on his tongue. God, so good.

* * *

"Oookay," Xander nervously chuckled, easing his skin from between Spike's teeth. "You are venturing into the realm of the very weird now. Think I liked it better when you were just plain evil."

Xander shook off the shivery-tingly feeling that had spread through his limbs and tried to pry Spike's fingers off his jacket. "We gotta get to Giles. Or Willow. If you're under a spell, maybe she can..."

* * *

Spike growled and shook Xander lightly. Part of him waited anxiously for the chip to go off, watching cautiously and allowing him ever-increasing strength as the chip remained silent -- so far. The rest of him was focused on Xander and the scent of him. He wanted to bathe in it, if he could. "No Giles. Not letting his Ripperness get a whiff of you, boy. He's been around demons enough to know how good you smell and want you for himself. And Red's right out, too. She'd only take you away from me."

Spike switched his attentions to the other side of Xander's neck, treating it to the same licking, nuzzling, and then gentle, slightly more forceful, biting.

* * *

_Sweet fancy Moses. Shivery-tingly is back, and he brought friends._ Trying desperately to clear his head and make his knees work, Xander pushed at Spike again, finding it very hard to dislodge the firm hands and his fingers weirdly uncooperative as well.

"Man," he joked, "how do you vamps get anyone bit with all this flirting?" He'd hoped to shock Spike out of his bloodlust with some highly inappropriate insinuation. He was disappointed.

* * *

Without releasing Xander, Spike growled and thrust his hips against the boy's, knowing Xander'd recognize the thick length there for what it was. _Warm. Warm and sweet and never lettin' you go again._ Scraping his teeth gently, Spike backed off enough to admire the red marks he'd created. _Pretty._

"Don't want to _bite_ you, boy," he murmured. "Why'd I want to do that? Less you want me to?" Suddenly burning with the notion, Spike grabbed Xander's head and yanked it down so they were eye level. "Do you _want_ me to bite you? Think the chip might not react if you _want_ it." He added another hip roll, not sure if it was encouragement or to keep the boy disoriented. Either way, it felt bloody good.

* * *

_Oh. My. God._ Spike thrust up against him, and he couldn't help but feel the thick erection as it ground into his belly. To his extreme embarrassment, he felt his own dick twitch at the contact, filling and stretching like Pavlov's dog licked his chops after that freaking bell.

How many times had he lain in bed after that debacle at the school, when he and Spike had first met, cock thrusting through his fingers and trying to forget? How many times had he fought it, filling his mind with Angelina Jolie or Jeri Ryan, desperately avoiding the blond punk until he was too far gone, just needed the one image to push him over? Of how Spike looked at him, every time they met, seeming somehow to see right through all Xander's snark and hate to find exactly what he wanted? _Arrogant prick._

And now, here it was, the real thing, and Xander was screaming at his cock to get down, for fuck's sake, not the fantasy, not playtime, but it wouldn't listen.

He wrenched his attention back to the question at hand, trying to focus. "Do I want you to... bite me? You mean kill me _dead_? No, thanks, Spike. There's always drugs if things get that bad." He squirmed in Spike's grip. _Gotta get some distance here, some space..._

* * *

_Oh, yeah. Move for me, pet._ Spike rode the boy's struggles, grinning as he maneuvered him against the wall to get some balance. "Don't want to kill you. I'd lose all of this if I did and _nothing's_ taking it away from me. You're mine. Angelus gave you to me, and it's about time,” he nipped Xander’s neck again, “I claimed you."

* * *

"Okay," Xander breathed as he felt the wall come up hard against his back, felt Spike's cock entrench itself against his hip. "I mean, no! I mean, that's a ridiculous and insane thing to say and do and think of, and there is no way on God's green earth we are doing anything involving that!"

Xander tried to remember. This was not fantasy Spike, who would be caring and gentle and kiss and lick. Nor was it the fantasy Spike who would fuck like an animal, but still never hurt him. This was the Spike of reality, who was _evil_ , and therefore as like as not to find a way to kill him when free of the spell. His mind raced as he tried to think of a way to forestall the inevitable long enough to stop it.

"Spike, I... I have to make a phone call!" Inspiration! "I have to call Willow. She'll come looking for us if she doesn't know where I am, Anya will tell her and Buffy and ...!"

* * *

Spike backed off a little, cocking his head while he thought that over. Buffy was already going to throw a fit over his broken promise. And it was possible Anya had already told them of Xander's little demon problem and Spike's rescue, but taking that chance ... the Scoobies did have a distressing habit of checking up on each other.

"Fine." Grabbing Xander's wrist in an iron grip, Spike began power-walking towards the boy's basement. He wanted a bed for this, dammit, and he wanted -- chains! Rupert had chains, he knew, but going there would definitely mean losing the boy. _Fucking chip. Nothing for it, I'll just have to use whatever he's got handy._ "We'll call from your place. I'm there to guard you. Actually, better yet, I'll do the calling. You can just shout as appropriate."

The part of his brain that watched for chip-reaction was fairly surprised that Xander hadn't done more to try and fight him off. After all, Spike _couldn't_ hurt him. All Xander needed was a good shove and a yell to the nearest human -- hell, they were close enough to Rupert's that the Slayer might possibly hear. So, if he hadn't done that, and was in fact scrambling along behind him ... Spike started to grin. Evilly.

* * *

His place? No. No way. His parents would be home. Which meant... well, it meant lots of things.

Recovering from the sudden shock of being nearly yanked off his feet, Xander dug in his heels, using the arm dragging him along as a leash to drag Spike back. "No," he insisted firmly. Spike turned, eyes wide in disbelief, but Xander hastened to explain. Or, make something up so Spike would go with it and not ask very embarrassing questions.

"Not the basement. I... I don't think it's appropriate for a c-c-claiming, because... because I'm special and you should take me someplace. Someplace nice." Xander nodded, satisfied with that. He could use a pay phone somewhere along the way to call Willow, and then Buffy would come to rescue him and there would be no aloneness with Spike at any time.

* * *

_Knew he'd see it my way._ "Wanna be treated right, do you? Fine with me. Intended on making it up to you, anyway." Pulling Xander close to him again, oblivious to the not-totally-deserted streets around them, Spike let his hand cup between the boy's legs, the heel rubbing over the boy's cock. "Such a pressie Angelus gave me. Should've taken you long, long ago. That's right, pet, arch into me like that," he crooned when the boy reacted -- probably against his will, not that Spike cared much -- and thrust into Spike's fingers. "Makes you smell even _better_... "

* * *

_Ohmygodohmygodohmygod..._

Spike's clever fingers stroked over his balls, the base of his cock, sliding up and down, and his palm cupped around and... ohhh. Xander arched his hips toward that sensation, so good, with the pressure and moving... and then tore himself away. He spun out of Spike's arms and held an arm extended, flat of one palm facing the seductive blond, breath heaving.

"No," he said, buying time, groping for a good reason for 'no' at the same time. Then, it hit: "Everyone will see me out here, the way..." He stumbled over this part, but forced it past unwilling lips. "...the way only you should."

The fire in Spike's eyes banked itself as he saw reason, and Xander felt confident enough to add, "And we've gotta stop at a pay phone."


	2. Chapter 2

_He wants it._

Confident now that Xander'd shown just how badly he wanted a bit of Spike, his shoulders dropped back, belly out to show the world his cocky -- literally -- stance. "Good pet you are," he purred, drawing Xander close to him again and leading him in a slow waltz-step. "Mmm. All right. Not gonna run, are you? Cause don't think I'll let you go, now. Might even let the Phik demons round that bend knock you out a bit, before I tear 'em apart. Just to make sure you _stay_ mine."

Oh, hell yeah. Fear mixed in with lust and the smell of _Xander_ , creating something that was damned near intoxicating.

 _Wait a minute. Demons round the corner, going after_ my _boy? Not a fucking chance_.

Throwing Xander over his shoulder, Spike took off. He had a destination, a motel chain run by a compatriot of Willy's that he could bluff into a room for the night. It wasn't quite the silk sheets and champagne he wanted, but it'd do. And there'd be a sodding pay phone there.

* * *

They ran. If Xander clung to Spike's back, if he somewhat enjoyed bouncing around on Spike's shoulder, if the rag-doll-ness of his situation made him shiver, then surely it was the incipient death by Phik demon that made it so.

Whatever the hell a Phik demon was.

* * *

Getting a room was easy as he'd thought. The little mousy human, who had no idea that Spike couldn't actually do more than glare at him, cowered and simpered when Spike flashed a bit of fang and hurriedly got Spike and his 'friend' a key.

"Need to use your phone, too," Spike said when the key was finally in his hand. "Here, turn it round, let my boy make a call."

Phone turned, Spike pushed Xander up against the barrier and waited until he'd dialed, bringing the headset up to his ear. _Then_ he pushed up against Xander's backside, rubbing his cock against the firm curves he found underneath baggy jeans -- and pressing _Xander's_ erection up against the cheap wood varnish as well. _Oh, yeah, pet. Think I'm gonna let you have a chance to screw me over? Nothin' doin'. Make your call and then you 'n' me are gonna have some fun._

* * *

_Hasty whisper, ignore the guy behind the counter,_ definitely _ignore the Spike pressing into my ass..._

"Willow. It's me. I'm fine. No, Will, I'm fine. Listen. I'm with Spike. I'm fine. Don't... Willow, _listen_. He's... there's magic at work, okay? We're in a motel. I can't tell you. No. Because, I just can't. So... Will! Find out what the hocus pocus is and break it, okay?"

He risked a glance over his shoulder. "And you better make it quick." He handed the phone back to the guy behind the counter. "Thanks."

* * *

Spike thought about how he was supposed to respond to that as he led Xander away from the front desk to their 'room'. Bed, dresser, mirror, serviceable bathroom. Wasn't spectacular, but it seemed reasonably clean and Spike'd take it for now.

Shoving Xander -- _gently_ \-- onto the bed, Spike waited for him to scramble around onto his back before settling himself over Xander's hips. "Now, then," he said thoughtfully, hands splaying on Xander's chest, effectively immobilizing him. His thumbs found already-peaked nipples underneath the shirt and rubbed. "What should I do first, hm? ‘Specially since you've got Red on the case. Not that there's much of one, really. You were mine long before you smelled _this_ good. Gonna still be mine, even if she makes it go away."

* * *

Xander scrambled back, shoulders coming up against the headboard. He cast around desperately for a way to delay this until Will could get in with the fix. Because no matter what Spike said, Xander fervently believed that all this wanting of Xander would be stopping as soon as the spell was broken. It had to be.

Shower? No, wet and naked. Shopping? He almost snorted at the thought. Food! Food could work! "W-wait," he stuttered, trying to sound casual. "Before we... this... can we get some food? I'm pretty hungry..."

* * *

His eyes narrowed. "Weren't hungry before." _Is Xander playing me? Little shit. If he thinks I'm gonna let that go ..._ Spike was fully prepared to take good care of his new pet -- but getting played by him wasn't an option.

Settling back, Spike ground his ass against Xander's cock. He toyed with the boy's nipples again, eyes busy canvassing the room. All he needed was -- perfect! Waiting for Xander to go all panting and glaze-eyed from lust, Spike struck.

The scrap of toweling was torn into five serviceable strips in moments, Xander's arms firmly secured to the headboard -- full of such lovely holes and niches to work with -- in the next. Working on Xander's legs, Spike smirked up at him. "Now, then. If you're _really_ hungry, you'll accept a high-protein snack. And if all you're trying to do is get rid of me, well, you've got nowhere to go, do you?"

* * *

Xander tugged at his bonds, unable to believe that this was really happening. They didn't move, and he began to panic. Guile had clearly failed, and it was time to try truth.

"Spike, please try to understand. You're under a spell. When Willow breaks it, if you're... if we're... _doing stuff_ , you're gonna be so mad!" The _at me_ was not added to the end of that sentence... but Xander thought it.

* * *

_Little shit_. But a scared little shit, and now Spike's little shit, and it was up to Spike to calm him down. Resettling himself on Xander's cock, Spike made sure his slow, long touches to Xander’s chest and belly weren't at all arousing. Well, not _intentionally_ arousing, anyway.

"Shhhh, shh, pet. Calm down. Not gonna hurt you, and I'm not gonna get mad at you. Not your fault you smell so damned good." His hands ran up Xander's body, over his stretched arms to rub just below where the terrycloth tied him. Slithering until their chests and cocks met fully, Spike began placing deep, sucking kisses on Xander's neck and collar bone. "Don't you see, pet? I don't give a rat’s arse what this spell is. Doesn't make you smell any _different_. Just reminds me how damned good that is."

* * *

Xander tried to listen to that, really tried. But it was... hard.

The slow, insidious friction that was Spike's hips against his. The wet kisses on his neck, full of pressure and demanding his attention. It was enough to distract him, pull his mind away from what it should be doing and make it focus on Spike, Spike, Spike...

But it didn't stop him from being terrified of the whole fucking thing. Just because he wanted the fantasy didn't make the reality any more familiar, any less petrifying. He'd accepted the fact that he was attracted to men... well, attracted to _Spike_ , anyway... way back. But the whole process was a mystery. A painful-sounding mystery. And Xander had unquestionably never asked anyone anything about it.

Which left Spike. Xander's one hope for a gentle initiation into these things was a _vampire_. He could have laughed out loud ... but he had to try to say something.

"Just... could you just try and be... slow? With me? Cause, y'know, not the most comfortable in the world with this..."

* * *

And suddenly the boy's fear made a lot of sense. Well, other than a human's normal fear towards the undead -- but Xander hadn't been scared of him in too long, so figuring out _this_ fear made him relax a touch. 

Lifting his head, Spike continued slithering against him like a snake but managed a smile -- probably even a sincere one. "You forget, pet. Can't hurt you, can I? Can't do anything you don't _want_ me to. And you want me to do this, don't you, boy? Want me to put my mouth all over you. Touch your cock, let you touch mine. Oh, you want it, you lovely, lovely boy. Don't you worry, now. I'll make sure you get it. I'll make sure you _love_ it."

* * *

Xander writhed under Spike's words. They were sensual, yes, but also reassuring and surprisingly perceptive, and Xander's fear lifted somewhat. Spike's voice, smoothing over his fears, painted elaborate pictures in his mind. There was one that stood out in sharp certainty, and he wanted it with a shockingly hot passion.

"Yeah," he agreed, a sigh of acknowledgment. Everything Spike said was true. Cautiously, he risked a glance into Spike's eyes, and tugged on the strips that bound his wrists. "Could you... I mean, I won't go anywhere, but I want..." He wanted his hands. His palms tingled with anticipation. He wanted to _touch_.

* * *

Spike wriggled until he was resting on Xander comfortably. "Finally understand it, do you?" Xander's lips were warm and soft, slightly damp from the humidity of his breath. They tasted both salty and sweet, mixed up into something that was almost _better_ than the scent of him.

What was supposed to be just a brush of a kiss, a reward for learning his place, turned into the kind of face-sucking snogging Spike hadn't been entirely certain they'd share. But that taste ... he wanted more of it, all of it, wanted to fucking _bathe_ in it, surround himself with it until he was higher than he got on the drugs he occasionally toyed with. "Fuck, so good," he murmured in between kisses. _Let the boy breathe, Spike, he's still human._ "Taste so _good."_

* * *

Spike pulled away and Xander tried to chase after him, forgetting that his wrists were bound, forgetting that he was heaving air into his lungs. Spike was talking, and then kissing again, and Xander fell under the onslaught with barely a thought of protest. _It's too easy,_ his brain whispered. _This is too fast. I shouldn't want him like this, so much, so fast..._

But Spike kissed like breathing, the need for what Xander could give so clear, so urgent, and Xander'd never been needed like that in his whole life before now. It was just kissing. It wasn't like anything really crazy had happened. It was just _kissing_.

* * *

Never letting go of that agile, hot mouth, Spike dragged the pads of his fingers down the length of Xander's body. The line of Xander's hip heaved under his touch, straining upward with an urgency that helped abate some of Spike's.

"Eager boy. You want this, don't you, pet? Had fantasies about me pushing you down and just taking what I want? Letting me break you in so slow, so perfect, screaming for more as I push my cock inside you. That what you want, pet? That what you've dreamed about?"

His fingers found the hard, throbbing length of Xander's cock, still trapped behind metal teeth and restraining denim. Tracing over the length of it, Spike could _feel_ when he found the vein -- the swift rush, rush of blood pumping away -- and concentrated on touching only there.

* * *

"Ohhh, God..." Spike's touch was fire, licking over his skin and setting him squirming and arching. He was losing track of... what was... ah, yes.

"Sometimes," he answered timidly, not having the faintest idea why he was confessing this now, except that it might keep Spike touching him, keep that hand moving over his straining skin. "Sometimes you let me... do things. Touch you. I come home and you're waiting for me, all the blinds drawn. And you have the... the duster on, so I can't think, and you come up and take my hand and make me... ahh!"

* * *

"Make you what?" Spike shifted so he was only half-leaning on Xander, shoving his cock against the boy's hip with every tight roll of his hips. "Tell me, boy. Want to hear all the things you've wanted to do, wanted me to do to you. And then we're gonna do them, pet."

 _Well, within reason._ Spike knew the chip offered certain limitations, and there were probably a few things that were bound to come up, later. Speaking of coming up, though, _Want these off, wanna feel his skin against me. So fuckin' hot, and he smells so_ good.

Backing off so that a single nail moved up and down Xander's cock, teasing him, Spike sucked up another mark on the boy's neck. Would the boy throw a fit if Spike just ripped his clothes off? He might. But that meant untying him, and damn if Xander didn't look so _luscious_ , spread taut and tight on the bed.

* * *

The nervy singing over his cock was distracting, yeah, but not nearly so much as Spike's hard length pushing against his hip. His face burned with shame, and he kept his eyes lowered, looking at the window, the door, anywhere but Spike. He answered, his harsh breathing and gasps as he spelled out his fantasies to their object.

"You'd make me... touch you... bring my... hand down your chest and under the... shirt. Oh, g-god... and then you'd undo your jeans and you weren't hurting me, so the chip wouldn't fire, and you'd make me touch you... there..."

* * *

"Where?" Spike purred. "Here? Where I'm touching you?" Such a responsive creature Xander was, delectable and sweet underneath him. Spike rubbed forehead, nose, cheeks, and mouth into the boy's flushed face, soaking up heat scented with the smell of _Xander_. "You want to touch my cock, pet? Want to feel how hard you make me?"

Interesting that the boy hadn't wanted Spike to touch _him_. Not that Spike was objecting, of course. _Object to finding a tasty treat like this one? Never. That he's already got the attitude down, sweet and giving without even a thought to himself, is whipped-topping bonus._

* * *

"Yes," Xander hissed, lost in the feel of Spike's fingers tracing over his throbbing length, unable to hold it back. Just like that, the words spilling from him, confession in the dark.

"Wanted to. You'd make me but I wanted to, and I didn't want you to know but you knew, somehow, and you let my hand go and then I was touching you by myself. And I wanted to run, but I didn't, and instead I... I..."

Always, the next part made him come, the thought of dropping to his knees and sucking Spike into his mouth. Alone in his basement, he'd bring his own fingers to his lips, and he'd pretend the taste was Spike, and he'd come, stripping his cock hard. And how did he say _that_ out loud without exploding in shame?

* * *

Spike growled, low and long as the pheromone level coming off Xander abruptly spiked. Had a secret, did he? _A doozy of one, if it gets him this hot._

Deftly, Spike unbuttoned and unzipped Xander's pants, repeating his attentions with only soaked boxers between him and Xander's cock. "Aren't you a treasure, hm? Can't wait to touch me. Make me feel good. That get you hot, pet? Working my cock harder and harder in your big, hot hands? Bet you wanted to do more, though, didn't you? Bet you wanted something else... "

Spike nudged the boy's head towards him, capturing his mouth in a punishing kiss that ended up with Spike sucking on Xander's tongue like it was a cock. _And I'll definitely be tasting that, oh yes. His come'll be like the finest wine._ "Tell me, pet. Can't do it if you don't say it. Come on, baby, tell me."

* * *

Small voice. Low and hushed. _Maybe if it's low and hushed, if it's quiet enough, Spike won't hear it. Nobody will ever, ever hear it, and it won't be true. I won't want it._

"I would give you... I would lean in, and it would... there'd be this smell. This good smell, like baking bread or high tide... and I'd open m-my mouth and..." He was almost hyperventilating, the fantasy so practiced he was almost submerged in it, could smell the scent of it, his mouth watering.

"I would s-s-suck you, Spike. God, I w-want..."

* * *

Spike _thrummed_ deep in his chest. The words were soft, rice-paper thin, and almost had Spike coming against Xander's hip like a bloke with his first hooker. "That's a _good_ boy, pet. So good for tellin' me that, doing as I asked you to. Want to suck me, pet? Want to feel me, so hard and thick on your tongue? Stretching your jaw wide, so wide, as I let you taste me?"

Practically riding along Xander's thigh, Spike shifted just enough that he could free his right hand. He ran his thumb over the boy's shiny-wet lower lip, pressing softly against the plump center. He could feel Xander, so tense and _wanting_ against him ... The thumb slid in. "Suck me, pet. Just this, for now, but you'll get what you want. Wanna feel what you're gonna do to my cock."

* * *

The finger pressed at his lip and Xander trembled. God, oh, God, this was not slowing down. This was not gentle. This was instant exposition of his most secret fantasies, and Spike exploiting those fantasies, and god, could it be any more fucking hot in here?

He let his lips fall apart, just the tiniest bit, and felt Spike push into him. If it had tasted of slick pre-come, that thumb, Xander would have exploded, he was sure.

As it was, he tasted bitter and salt, as he let his tongue rest against the pad. He closed his lips over Spike, shaking with nervousness. What if he was no good? Would Spike leave? How could he possibly be good at this?

Reflexively, his tongue dragged slowly over Spike's thumb. More of the salty flavor slid over Xander's taste buds, and he swallowed it down, surprised to find that his mouth closed tight and Spike's thumb was trapped inside as he did so.

Spike growled as Xander's mouth tightened on him, and Xander interpreted that as _good, more._

Again, tentatively, he licked and swallowed, this time trying to keep Spike tight in his mouth, trapped, as he had before. The response was... favorable.

* * *

Spike's cock, already hard and protesting its entrapment, _throbbed_ at the feel of those pouty, nervous lips closing around his finger, hothotwet suction trapping the digit between a tentative tongue and the ridges at the roof of Xander's mouth.

"Oh, yeah, pet. That's a _good_ boy." He rubbed the pad of his thumb against the roughness of the boy's tongue, the rest of his fingers curving around the boy's jaw, stroking gently. "Gonna give you what you want, pet. Gonna give you everything you've dreamed about. Let you taste me as I fill you up, fill you so good... " Finger-sucking shouldn't make Spike _this_ hard and _this_ ready to come -- but the way Xander's eyes rolled, wanting and nervous and so, desperately needy... "How do you want to be, pet? On your knees, me above you? On your belly, while I stretch out comfy on the bed?"

* * *

A thought occurred to Xander. Spike was under a spell, so it was almost like this wasn't really him. When Willow reversed the effects, all the memory of this might disappear. Or he might just dismiss it as fever-induced dreaming. Or Xander could say he'd been under a spell, too. It was like a get-out-of-inhibitions-free card.

"Nes," he said around bespelled-and-therefore-not-really-Spike's finger, and when that finger was pulled from his lips, he swallowed, licked dry lips, and repeated it softly. "Knees," he near-whispered. "In my... when I think of it... I'm always on my knees for you."

* * *

Control. Spike _had_ to control himself, or he was going to come long before he ever sank between the lips he was currently kissing. "Want a bit of pain, do you, pet? Such a _good_ lad you are."

Levering himself off of Xander's body nearly made him moan in disappointment, but he did it. He removed the boy's shoes and socks, then -- _carefully_ – did his jeans back up. "You leave these on," he instructed as he chafed the boy's ankles before slowly undoing his wrists and chafing _them_. "Hear me? The jeans stay on until I take 'em off, and not before. Now then, pet. Off with the shirt, then down you go, there's a lad."


	3. Chapter 3

Oh, no. This... he was going to do it! Xander's hands were free, but he still couldn't make himself move. Fantasy, reality...

Firmly, he reminded himself that this wasn't real. Not really. Spike wasn't really Spike, and this wasn't really happening. It was all a spell. It wasn't for real.

His fear lessened, and if his heart hurt a little, it wasn't enough to stop him from sitting up, swinging his legs to the side of the bed and undoing the buttons on his shirt. One by one, he edged them through their buttonholes, and when the shirt was loose around him, he slid it off his shoulders. He felt a surge of pride - hard work for not much money had made him lean, defined. He knew he had a good body.

Carefully, he slid off the bed and onto his knees, shuffling forward and placing his hands hesitantly on Spike's hips. He leaned his head back and looked up, waiting for some kind of instruction. Despite his confidence, his tummy was fluttery, still, and he didn't want to do this wrong.

* * *

Spike threaded his fingers through the boy's long hair, watching the waves of dark, nearly black locks cascade over his skin once, twice, three times. On the fourth pass he allowed his fingers to tangle up in the strands, formed a fist and pulled very, very lightly. Xander's head immediately went back, eyes wide -- and mmm, there it was. That heady burst of the boy's arousal.

"You look perfect there, pet. At my feet, waiting for whatever I tell you. I'll teach you how to do this with just your mouth, pet, but for now you're allowed the use of your hands. Take off my boots, and the jeans. Nicely, now," he cautioned, squeezing his hand tight in a way that Spike knew would never set the chip off.

* * *

Breath slow and shaking, Xander cupped his hand around Spike's right heel and pulled gently. Spike complied with the unspoken request, and Xander lifted his knee, placed the booted foot on it and began untying the laces. They came apart easily, the old, ragged Doc sliding into his hands as soon as the task was complete. Satisfied, he quickly started on the next. This part was easy.

When both boots sat neatly to one side, Xander began to sweat. This was the hard part, and the pun was most certainly intended. He lifted surprisingly stable hands to Spike's jeans, and then glanced up for reassurance. This was right, wasn't it? Was he supposed to be sexier, somehow?

Spike looked down at him, blue eyes darkened with lust, and Xander took that for encouragement. With not a little wonder, he touched careful fingers to Spike's belly.

Cold! It was as though Spike had just stepped in from outside, his skin chilled by a harsh wind. But at the same time, there was the softness he'd imagined, and he allowed the tips of his fingers to glide over the flesh there. They couldn't move far, though, before they ran into the black leather and harsh denim of Spike's jeans and belt, and Xander again swallowed. Focused, he began to pull apart the leather, heard the jingle of the buckle, and unconsciously licked his lips.

Inside his jeans, his cock was _aching_.

* * *

_I've had virgins before. Fucked 'em, and made 'em love it, and Christ, pogo-fucking_ Christ!

Each terrified, wanting-it-so-badly-he-was- _gagging_ -for-it movement had Spike so desperate to come that he knew he'd have to do something to take the edge off. Stroking the boy's hair back from his face again, Spike ran his thumb over that lower lip, dipping inside briefly. "Good boy," he crooned. "That's very good. Keep going, pet."

* * *

It was good to have the encouragement, if nothing else. A little faster, Xander pulled the belt off, enjoying the tugging feel of it slithering through the loops. When it was out, he put it to one side, with the boots.

 _Okay, Xan-man. Moment of truth._ He lifted his fingers again to Spike's waist, and gently slid his fingers between Spike's belly and the denim. Immediately, the tips encountered a blunt, slick surface, and Xander jumped and pulled his hands back.

Spike hissed at the contact, but Xander barely noticed. He was staring at his fingertip, and the tiny bit of fluid that had collected there when he'd touched Spike's cock. Definitely trembling now, he slowly lifted that shining fingertip to his mouth.

When he touched it to his tongue, his hand shot out and gripped the fabric covering Spike's leg as his eyes fluttered shut. _Oh, God, it's better than I thought. Much, much better..._ He felt his cock pulse in his jeans, an insistent, hard thrum that skittered over his nerve endings and made him shiver violently, the spasm skittering over his whole body and leaving him still.

* * *

The _rapture_ on the boy's face nearly undid him. "Right," he rasped. "Looks like both of us need the bloody edge off. Undo me, pet. Want you to see what you're gonna be sucking on."

The boy was what, nineteen? He'd get his hard on back in twenty minutes, tops, given how badly he wanted Spike's cock. And Spike knew _he'd_ have no problem with getting another erection, not with the pretty, pretty boy between his legs.

* * *

Xander didn't want to wait anymore. The hint of taste lit a fire under him, and he attacked the bindings with fervor. Frustrated, he wondered when people had changed jeans so you needed a crowbar to get past the button, but it finally came apart and he pulled the zipper down, trying to ignore the hardness against the backs of his fingers.

Averting his eyes to Spike's feet, he carefully pulled the jeans down, helped Spike step out of them and then tossed them on top of Spike's boots. Finally, there were no more excuses; he sat back on his heels and let his gaze climb.

Feet. Legs. Knees - surprisingly pretty. Thighs.

Cock.

He was drawn up, his hands rising without his knowledge. _Want_ , his mind said, in the kind of tone reserved for radio announcers and people testing speakers - all encompassing, and very important.

* * *

Spike started petting the boy's hair again, feeling the swish of locks moving against his fingers and the silken heat of him. "Now, then," he said softly. "Gonna make you an offer, pet. You can stand up right now, and I'll take care of both of us, so we can enjoy this properly. Or you can promise me that you _will not_ come until I say you can. 'S up to you, pet."

He couldn't help forming a fist again, pulling Xander's hair just hard enough to make him moan, his other hand busy tracing over lips and nose and soft, blinking eyes. Regardless of Xander's decision, _Spike_ needed to come, and soon, or he was gonna pop the second Xander touched his mouth to his cock.

* * *

_What?_ Xander looked up at Spike abruptly. "Those choices suck," he said, emphatically. "I'm not getting up, no way, no how. But..." And his voice dropped right back down, as fast as it had risen. "I can't make you any promises about not coming if I get to..." And he returned his eyes to Spike's cock, eyes longing, teeth worrying his lower lip.

* * *

Spike tugged on his fistful of hair even harder. "Not to worry, pet. Not gonna deny you what you want. Just want to make sure we enjoy it properly. Take the edge off a little, so there's no rush, no hurry."

His free hand dropped to his own hard cock, stroking it, purposefully working the foreskin back and forth so he was almost winking at the boy, pre-come glistening. He could see the boy's mouth water. "I wanna feel you," he purred, dropping to that low, sexy, commanding voice that worked so well. "Wanna let you suck me as long as _you_ want to, pet. Enjoy every second of it. And to do that, pet, I need you to do this. You want to, don't you lad? Want to watch me stroke off as much as I want to see you. Let me see your cock, boy. Don't have to get up. But I want to see your hand moving on your cock."

* * *

Xander was hypnotized. The pale hand moving on pale cock entranced him, and Spike's subsequent commands had him moving before he even thought. He dropped his hands between his legs and tore open his jeans. His dick was so full, it almost hurt to move it into a comfortable position for stroking, but Xander persevered, tugging it out of the fabric.

One touch and he was close. Really, really close. His eyes were locked to Spike's hips, and he unconsciously tried to match the rhythm that pale hand set.

"Spike," he breathed, "want... want you to make me..." He was pushing up into his own hand, hips lifting off his heels, offering himself. "Spike, please..."

* * *

"Good boy, Xander. Very good, doing just like I tell you to," Spike breathed. "Use your other hand now, want you to catch it, pet. Not waste a single drop for me. Cup your hand -- that's right. That's good."

His own hand sped up, but Spike knew when _he_ would come. His mouth watered at the thought of tasting the boy's essence. When Xander's hand was positioned properly, he said in a low, hard voice, "Come, boy. Come for me now."

* * *

Instantly, Xander’s fingers tightened on his cock, pressing the head and tugging just right, and the orgasm tore through him, wracking his body, making him lean back against the bed. He cried out, high-pitched and keening, just once, as he filled his hand with his own hot spunk.

"Jesus," he heaved, when he could speak again.

* * *

"Don't lose it," Spike hissed, leaning forward to watch as much as he could. "Not a bit of it, pet, not a single drop. Got it? Now bring your hand up to me, pet. Good boy, that's good." He snarled with eagerness, his hand squeezing around the base of his cock to stave of his orgasm that much longer.

This was the scent that'd been driving him crazy. This was what he wanted, what all those other demons had wanted. And Xander was _giving_ it to him. Of his own free will, handing over the sweetest ambrosia ever created.

He moaned brokenly when Xander's hand was finally close enough. Holding his wrist steady, Spike dipped his tongue in the puddle of come and had to work damn hard not to whimper. So good. So perfect. Bitter and salty and Spike was going to make the boy masturbate in a _bag_ when Spike wasn't sucking him dry. He could live on this alone, he bet, while he still had coherent thoughts. Give up blood entirely and just live off of Xander's come.

When the puddle was gone, Spike uncurled Xander's fingers and worked on licking and sucking each one clean, not wanting to miss a single trace. He started stroking himself again, quick, hard strokes while he wallowed in the knowledge that Xander had _given_ him this. His now. His, his, his, _his, his, his --_

He came with a cry, only barely remembering to catch his own ejaculate to offer Xander the same treat.

* * *

Xander lay still as Spike licked his fingers. Lapping it, wanting it, Spike all over him, and it was... wow. Wow.

When Spike pumped himself furiously, Xander had to fight the urge to go up and take the head into his mouth, as it peeped in and out of the pale fingers, and then Spike was coming, and catching it all in his hand.

He was struck, then, with the notion that Spike would want him to... do what Spike had done. The idea made him feel weird - it was kind of a sneaky feeling. He wanted to do it, if it would make Spike... want him, or something. But also, hey, kinda gross.

On the other hand, girls did it all the time. Saw it in porn. So it couldn't be that bad. He resolved to try it. Just as soon as Spike told him to.

* * *

Given the way Xander had reacted before, Spike had assumed he'd be all over him the moment Spike offered. Wait a minute. Those dark eyes were still hot with lust, but there was a mischievousness ... _Oh, you beautiful, wonderful boy._ Never _letting you go now. Not ever._

"Xander," he almost sing-songed, his voice so quiet it was nearly a whisper and strangely more powerful for it. "Lick my hand clean. Now."

* * *

_Ohhh, orders. Okay._ Now _I'm hot._

Xander lifted himself back up onto his knees and leaned forward. Spike held his hand out, so the come dripped down, and Xander rushed forward to catch a drop as it rolled down Spike's finger. The taste hit his tongue, and as he moved up Spike's hand, Xander considered.

It was decidedly bitter and coppery. Less salty than Xander had expected, it was a strange taste, faintly familiar. Xander cast around in his mind, and then lit on it - hoi sin sauce!

After that, it tasted fine. Xander licked, cleaning Spike's hand thoroughly, tongue sliding between the fingers, wrapping around the tips (because Xander could do that tongue-rolling thing, which he was a little proud of.)

* * *

Spike moaned, stroking the boy's hair while he sucked and licked, feeling himself grow hard again. "Very good, boy." Spike twisted his hand so the palm was down, sliding the first two fingers inside Xander's mouth and pumping them slowly back and forth. " _Very_ good. Such an eager boy. Want my cock, pet?" he taunted, gently fucking Xander's mouth. "Want something other than my fingers to suck on?"

Xander moaned around the fingers sliding in and out of his mouth, so sensual and good. He nodded, eyes closed, and sucked the fingers deeper.

Spike smirked, slowly drawing his fingers back, Xander's head coming with him. "That's good, boy," he praised. "That's right, got something so good for you, now."

Inches before his palm would brush the head of his cock, Spike slipped his fingers out and _thrust_ just enough to brush against Xander's wet, puffy lips.

* * *

The moment that slick, strong cock touched his mouth, Xander opened up and followed. He took Spike's hips in his hands, purely by instinct, and pulled them to him, sinking onto Spike's body. Oh, god, exactly as he'd pictured. Spike was right to do what he'd done - Xander would have come instantly.

Then it occurred to him that he hadn't been told to do this, and wondered if it wasn't right. His touch on Spike's hips turned gentle, and he pulled back off Spike's cock, letting the head rest on his lips. Didn't want to lose it all. He glanced up at Spike and waited there, like that, for Spike to tell him yes or no. Mentally, he ran back through the sounds he'd heard Spike make and tried to figure out whether they were good sounds.

* * *

Stopping -- no -- what the hell was --

Spike growled, angry at no longer being inside that silken heat. If Xander was chickening out now that he'd had his end away... Both hands clenched in Xander's hair, holding his head still. Growing furious -- _can't do anything if the boy doesn't want this!_ – Spike felt himself grow totally still at the question he read in Xander's eyes.

Xander was _worried_. Worried that he'd not done the right thing. Letting himself grin, just twisted enough that it couldn't be called _nice_ , Spike nodded. "Suck me, boy."

* * *

Xander whimpered, high in his throat, and his eyes closed of their own volition. God, it was just like the fantasy, just exactly like it, and for a moment, he thought he might be dreaming.

He opened his mouth to obey Spike's summons, leaned forward and let the head of Spike's cock slide over his lips and into his mouth. He heard the sounds above him, and shivered with the unexpected power of it before turning his attention to what he was doing.

Spike was heavy on his tongue, wider than the fingers, and softer by far. He hadn't expected it to be so soft - he ran his tongue over the skin, marveling at the satiny texture.

* * *

Spike's hands clenched, air moving in and out and in and out and inandout of his lungs. He concentrated on that, had to, because the feel of Xander's mouth was driving him insane. _Fuck, so perfect._ It took all his will to hold still, letting Xander run lips and tongue over him, tasting. Learning.

"That's right," he tried to croon and ended up gasping. "Good boy. Oh, fuck, pet, you're perfect."

* * *

_Hmm. Okay, tongue good. Pretty much anything with tongue equals good. How bout..._

Xander sank his head further onto Spike's twitching cock, taking more and more into his mouth, seeing how much he could get. It touched the back of his throat, and he fought the urge to cough, and pulled back a little. _Okay, too far. So, just about this much. Hmm. Well, now that I'm here, and all..._ He kept Spike buried deep and began to move his tongue, circling and sliding. _See how that goes..._

* * *

Groaning, Spike unclenched his left hand enough to move it to the boy's neck, rubbing at the two big tendons in a slow, soothing rhythm. He was barely halfway in, but for a lad who'd never done this before… Spike wasn't complaining. It'd been too long since Harm and her pathetic attempts, anyway. "Slow," he murmured, riding over the boy's tongue -- _slick and hot and fuck, there, right there, that's good_ – and trying not to bury himself to the hilt. "Like this, boy? Sucking me like a good boy."

* * *

"Mm-hmm," Xander hummed in assent, before pulling back and off, licking his lips and then taking just the head back in. "Mmmmm," he said, and closed his eyes to better savor the weird shape. It fit well, that was the strange thing. He would have thought it awkward or uncomfortable, and though his jaw felt a little strain at the hinge, it wasn't at all bad.

In fact, it was kind of... pleasant. Nice. The kind of pleasant and nice that made his cock hard, that parted his thighs and made his entrance long for a finger or two.

 _Only ever by myself. And it's been good, really good... I didn't want to save it for you, but I guess I did, and here it is. And you're going to want it, and I'm going to give it to you. And you're soft and big, but not too big, and I think I want you..._ Xander's brain threatened total meltdown, a strike against its owner.

* * *

The burst of pheromones was accompanied by the ability to slide in a little deeper. _Perfect little boy, you think I'm ever letting go of you? Be damned whatever spell you were on about. Hot and wet and willing counts for a fuck lot. Add in the ability to be trained ..._

He couldn't help the gentle rocking motion, his cock sliding back and forth over the boy's ever moving tongue. "Gonna have you here a lot, pet, on your knees for me, my cock in this luscious mouth. Look so good down there on your knees, waiting for me, suckin' me so sweet ... that's it, pet. That's my good boy."

* * *

It wasn't true, it was all a lie, but oh, it was so good. And Spike wasn't the one lying, not really. It was all the magic. Xander settled for expressing his ideas about the scenario Spike painted the best way he'd found so far.

He sucked Spike's cock into his mouth, determined to go a little farther this time, felt the big blunt tip pushing against the back of his throat. He pushed down the urge to gag and let it rub there before pulling back and sliding back down again. Spike was pushing, he found, back and forth, and of course! That would be good. So he slid back and forth, mimicking Spike's hand, his own, swirling his tongue around the head when he pulled back far enough.

 _More, more, more_ , said his brain, and he worked Spike with a hot determination.

* * *

White hot flames were searing every bit of thought from Spike's mind, but he kept up the words. Had to. He was a vocal lover, teasing, praising, and whispering the hot, dirty words that always drew his lovers in deeper to him. His voice was sandpaper rough by now, wet and dark as a human smoker's.

"Fuck, that's it, pet, that's what you want, innit? Been wanting this for so long. Don't you worry, pretty boy. No more dreams of this, I promise. We're gonna do this all the time, pet. You'll take me in your throat, easy as breathing, work me like the cocksucker you are. That's right, so good, pet. Boy. My boy. Gonna come, boy, you want that? You ready for it? Let me hear it, if you do. Wanna feel you moaning and groaning, hot just from my cock in your mouth."

* * *

Xander immediately levered himself up on his knees, ground himself down on Spike's cock, _mmmh_ 'd and nodded and slid his hand around to Spike's ass to pull him in, did every other damn thing he could think of to get him to do it, fucking do it, come, give me, yes, yes, _yes_...

* * *

Spike laughed. Breathless and turned-on and ecstatic. "That's my boy," he purred. He let himself get lost in it: the image of Xander Harris on his knees, desperate for more cock, more come, more _Spike_. The feel of that hot mouth, sucking with all its might, the vibrations of Xander's noises only adding to the thrill. And there, the scent of it, that overpowering, intoxicating smell of _want_ and _have_ and something else, something magic, demonic cat-nip that was _Spike's_ , now, never to be shared.

He came with a harsh cry, digging his nails into the back of Xander's head, riding over teeth and tongue as he filled the boy's mouth till it leaked out, dribbling over his chin.

Buzzing, almost woozy from it, Spike slipped his cock free. Wiping away the thin trail of come, Spike pressed it and his thumb back into Xander's mouth. "Suck it," he growled, rubbing at the boy's throat like a puppy's. "Swallow it all, boy. Let me feel it."

* * *

Xander swallowed and sucked greedily. _Spike-fried rice. Spike chicken. Spike Szechuan._ Hands wrapped around Spike's wrist, feeding the fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. Want, want, want.

His cock was straining now, eager again, and he wanted, wanted more. More sucking, more touching, more kissing, more _everything_.

* * *

"Good boy. That's my boy." Over and over Spike praised him, rubbing his throat, his hair, his face, his other hand still being attended by Xander's eager mouth. "Lick my cock clean, pet," he ordered after his hand was spit-shiny and spotless. "The slit. Suck on it."

* * *

Slit? What... oh! He hadn't even noticed. Curiously, he returned to Spike's cock and, as Spike had softened a little, happily fed the whole thing into his mouth, enjoying the feel of the skin under his lips before he backed up. Positioned then at the tip, he did as he was told - sucked and licked at that tiny little opening, lapping up every bit of taste he could, trying to push the tip of his tongue inside.

* * *

Spike groaned again, not quite ready to get hard again, but enjoying the eager sucking of his boy. "Come for me, boy," he ordered. "Come for me."

* * *

_Unh!_ As though the words had actual power, some kind of real command over his body, Xander felt himself jerking and twitching as the pleasure rushed through him again. The sweet bliss sang through his body, hanging him from Spike's cock, before he collapsed to the floor, replete and sated, wearing a tiny smile.

* * *

He couldn't have looked better if he were stoned out of his mind, Spike decided smugly. "Good boy," he praised, just because he could, and stood up from the bed. "Should've told you to catch that, boy," he muttered, catching sight of the come-stained floor. Regretful, but not concerned -- this was a nineteen year old boy -- Spike hauled Xander up and placed him on the bed.

Stripping him bare, Spike pulled the blankets down and then climbed in. "C'mere," he ordered, wanting to see what would happen now that boy wasn't working towards an orgasm -- his own, or Spike's.


	4. Chapter 4

Labored and sweating, Xander crawled up onto the bed and collapsed. That was easily the most intense sexual experience he'd ever had. Thought? What thought?

"Hi."

* * *

"Still think this is all a spell, do you?" He petted the boy's hair, slowly drawing him closer. Normally sweaty human was never good unless there was a ton of fear under it -- now, Spike was pretty sure he was in demonic heaven. "Think I'm gonna let you go when Red figures out what it is and breaks it?"

* * *

"Yeah," Xander confirmed easily. He was too sated to lie, and Spike was gonna forget or repress all of this anyway, so why not? He stretched, both muscles and consonants. "We'll go back to hating each other and bitching across the table at Scooby meetings. But even if you don't remember this, I will, and please do trust me when I say I have mental porn for the next decade."

* * *

Forget? He was supposed to _forget_ this? Right. Kinda like erasing the memory of William from his mind; a hundred and more years and _still_ he was there, tucked away in his littler corner.

"I think you underestimate my appreciation for a willing boy and a fantastic shag." Giving it up for lost, Spike gave a _yank_ so that Xander was flush against him, head on his shoulder, Spike's arms around him. He began tracing random patterns on the broad expanse of Xander's back, lowering his voice to something more compelling. "And my tenacity. Pretty thing like you needs a man to keep you in line, make sure you're taken care of. Given what you need. An upstanding vampire like myself, I'm doin' the world a public service. Essential."

* * *

Xander snorted against Spike's chest, enjoyed the feeling of the skin against his lips as he spoke. "Upstanding. _You're_ upstanding? You have more bad habits than my graduating class."

"Besides," he continued, before Spike could protest, wrapping one arm around him. "I don't want to talk about this. Upstanding vampires shouldn't make promises they won't want to keep when feisty little redheads shred their mojo. Can we do more of the touching? I like the touching. This, for instance, this is nice." Xander burrowed his face into Spike's body, loving the feel of the fingers tracing over his back. They were going to make him shiver soon. He could feel it, the cold fingers tracing over him, giving him goose bumps, the shiver approaching in a hundred tiny little tensing muscles all over his body.

* * *

"Demanding little thing, aren't you? We'll have to work on that." Not that Spike was objecting. Thanks to the little ball of William in his head (or so he convinced himself) Spike craved contact of the affectionate kind almost as much as the violence he'd only just had restored to him. "Why're you so sure that that this is gonna be over when the spell breaks, anyway? Think I didn't want this before?"

It was giving a little too much away, but with a warm, heavy weight stretched over him, relaxed muscles letting him touch wherever he pleased -- which was lower and lower -- and a pair of mostly-empty balls, Spike didn't mind talking a bit. Just a bit.

* * *

"Pfft. No," Xander answered. Ridiculous question. "Why would you?"

Then he ran that sentence back and realized what he'd said - in trademark Xander style - a couple of seconds too late.

"I mean, I'm a Scooby. I hate vampires, I always hated you, and I'm straight."

* * *

Spike chuckled, squeezing one firm buttock. When Xander gasped, lust coloring the air around him, Spike did it again. "Try again, boy. Already spilled your secret, didn't you? Had fantasies about me. And now you're gonna tell me the _other_ things you thought about us doing."

* * *

Eek! "No, really, I'm straight," Xander insisted. The hand on him was distracting, yes, but a clever man who'd just come twice could ignore such things.

"It's not guys. I don't like guys. I like _you_. You and girls, and that's pretty much that." He tucked his face further into Spike's chest and hoped he'd forget about the other, extremely embarrassing request.

* * *

_Silly boy. Don't know what you're dealing with yet, do you?_ Rumbling in his chest, Spike rolled them so that Xander was pinned beneath him, flushed and beautiful, with a tiny bit of come drying at the corner of his mouth. Licking it clean lead to kissing, the slow kind that only came _after_ the immediate needs had been attended to. 

"Don't give a damn if you like chimpanzees," Spike growled against Xander's mouth, staring into black eyes so close they blurred into a single distorted one. "I don't give a damn if you're gay, or straight, or even a Scooby. You're _mine_ now, boy, and you better understand what that means."

* * *

Xander's lips buzzed from the kissing, so slow and deep. He wanted more, much more, and his hips began to languidly roll up and back, up and back. "Okay," he said, willing to agree to almost anything, including humoring Spike's magic-related mood swings, if it meant more kissing. "Just... hypothetically... what does that mean?"

* * *

"Means ... I get to pick a new name for you. 'less you _like_ being called 'boy' all the time."

He wanted to say more, had his mouth open to do so, when he felt something ... humming. It wasn't a sound he could hear properly, he knew that. It was more like his _bones_ were humming, pressure growing stronger and stronger until it nearly crushed him, pulverized him into tiny, insignificant pieces --

And then released.

* * *

Xander leapt from the bed and scrambled for clothing. Living on the Hellmouth, you pick up a few things, and one of the things he'd picked up in his tenure was that swirly, glowy white light plus Spike freezing in place, eyes wide and also glowy, gasping and twitching? Equals magic. No ifs, ands or buts.

Which meant Willow came through, and it was time for clever Scoobies who wanted to live into tomorrow to get the hell out of Sunnydale, or at least the hotel room.

He'd pulled on his jeans and shirt without even buttoning them, and was halfway to the door when he was unceremoniously tackled to the ground.

* * *

Spike growled menacingly when Xander struggled, hating the damned chip. "Stay _still_ ," he ordered and miraculously enough, Xander froze. Long enough that Spike could roll them so Xander was on his back, and Spike on top of him -- a new favorite position.

"Now, then." His voice went low and silken, wrapping around Xander and holding him more firmly than any bonds could. "You tell me what the bloody fuck you thought you were doing."

Spike _knew_ , of course. Red's magic had a distinctive 'flavor' to it, burnt cinnamon and a hint of lemony tartness, and his nose fairly reeked of it. But he could still smell Xander, too. It didn't thrum the same kind of _want now_ feelings, but it certainly wasn't the repellent Xander often seemed to think it was. He smelled ... good. Sex and lust and Spike all wrapped up in something Spike knew he could learn to like quite a bit.

And beside, Spike's prior comments still held true. Give up a lovely, willing boy, all because he no longer smelled quite so good? Not a chance. All it meant was that Spike was no longer driven to suck the boy's come (though he had every intention of doing so again) and that other demons wouldn't challenge Spike the minute they got out the door. Seemed a fair deal to _him_ , so he arched against the warmth below him, teasing.

* * *

_Ohshitohshitohshit._

This was it, exactly why he'd fought Spike in the first place. Now there'd be angry and hateful, and his vicious glee when he thought he'd caught someone at something. _I thought I was doing something I'd always wanted to,_ his brain spat bitterly, _but I guess I'm the idiot again._

Spike was lightly rippling across his body, and Xander felt the blush stain his cheeks as the sinuous movement made his cock twitch and fill. Again. _Traitor._ He braced himself for the onslaught of insults, determined not to give Spike the satisfaction of answering his stupid question.

* * *

"Running away, pet?" The rich swath of red called him and Spike pressed forehead and nose right where the blood pooled hottest in Xander's cheeks. "Naughty. Think I ought to see how far your willingness for a bit of rough play goes, shouldn't I?"

Using nearly identical movements as almost an hour before, Spike stroked over shoulders and chest, down long, muscled arms before finding Xander's wrists and gripping them. A gentle tug and they were up, over Xander's head, crossed and held in the vise grip of Spike's control.

"Was it your Cinderella spell?" he asked softly. "Clock struck midnight and now you're back to being repressed boy?"

* * *

"I'm not repressed," Xander growled, furious, yet somehow failing to attempt to move his wrists. "I have a sense of _self-preservation_. You're not under any spell now, which means you are in no way restrained from trying to hurt me via demon buddy that owes you a favor. Anyone with an eyedropper of sense would try to run."

Xander was mentally smacking himself in the forehead as soon as those words came out of his mouth. "And I should not have said that, because now you have ideas."

In no way was he paying attention to Spike’s careful touch. It did not affect him. His cock was not hard again, and begging for a little touch. He was not just lying here, like a poseable rag doll, letting Spike do whatever he wanted!

_Dammit._

* * *

Spike let his laughter roll over Xander, thrusting a thigh between the boy's legs so that cock of his had something to rub against. Mm. So deliciously hot, this boy. "Told you before, pet, I don't want to _hurt_ you. No hiring of any bully-boys, and as for what I can or cannot do...”

He tightened his grip around Xander's wrists, listening for that tell-tale grind of bones rubbing together. Only then did he relax his grip slightly.

Leaning down so his mouth was right by Xander's ear, he murmured, "I think you like this, boy. Think you like me using you and you don't mind a bit when I make it a little rough. Know why I think that? Cause your cock is hard, boy, and the chip hasn't so much as whispered at me all night."

* * *

"Jesus, Spike," Xander muttered, averting his eyes and trying not to let the bitterness show. "Isn't it enough that you evidently remember everything? Do you have to..." He couldn't think of an end to that sentence that wasn't 'rub it in', and there was entirely too much rubbing going on anyway.

His wrists hurt, but he couldn't bring himself to move them. Spike's words were making him hotter, making him want the things Spike was saying, and he knew it was all a big set-up, he _knew_ it, but he couldn't stop himself from reacting, all the same.

* * *

Xander's ear was too tempting a target. Spike sucked on the bit of flesh thoughtfully, rubbing his thigh back and forth and back and forth, as if he was grinding out an itch with Xander's cock. God he tasted good. _Spell's broken for sure, but damn if my boy doesn't taste fine still._

"Do I have to what, hm? Pretty boy, I told you I wasn't letting an eager thing like you go. And I _meant_ it."

* * *

It was so tempting to believe him, believe the pretty lies. Xander twisted under Spike's body, panting harshly under the gentle tongue, rocking up into the strong thigh. It felt so _good_...

"Stop it," he gasped, talking about the lying, not wanting to hear the fantasy, because it was impossible, couldn't be believed. But this, dirty hotel room and fucking someone who hated him -- yes. This was the life of Xander Harris. It only made sense without the words...

* * *

Spike trailed deep, sucking kisses from Xander's ear over to his mouth, nipping his lower lip just to see it swell and redden. "Stop what? Stop makin' you feel good? Stop enjoying the way you're pushing up against me, like you can't help but be a good boy for me? Don't know what's going on in that head of yours, pet. Why don't you tell me, hm?"

* * *

Xander pushed against Spike's leg, arching his back, loving the feel of it, desperate for more. "Has it suddenly slipped your mind," he said between little gasps and groans of pleasure, "that you hate me? That we hate each other? There was a whole hating theme, if you recall..." Xander turned his head so Spike had better access to his neck and earlobe, unable to live for the space of another breath without more contact, more _Spike_.

* * *

It wouldn't be gentlemanly to dismiss as invitation as pretty as Xander, arching underneath him and presenting his neck so sweetly. Spike obliged by sucking along the major vein, scraping his teeth over the pulse until, when he pulled back, it was marred with red lines and mottled proto-bruising.

"Whoever said I hated you, hm, boy? Hate the _chip_ , sure. Hate bein' dependent on someone other than me, oh yeah. But hate _you_? Oh no, pretty boy. I never hated you."

It was the truth, of a sort, too. Xander had been a right snot to him since his arrival Thanksgiving evening, and Spike had longed to have some way of punishing him for the way he ran his mouth, taking Spike's tattered pride and tearing it into even tinier pieces. But _hate_ him, the way Xander meant? Oh, no. There was too much want mixed up in there for that. Of course, what Spike _had_ wanted was the boy's blood. Now ... _Now this fucking thing is training me, like it or not, and blood isn’t on offer, not for a long time. But I'll more than make do with the boy's gift of his body to me. Oh yes._

"Still gotta pick out a name for you," Spike mused as he went back to sucking on the boy's lips -- first upper, then lower, then upper again -- without ever quite kissing him. "Could call you 'ducks', I suppose. I'd call you slut, since you're so pretty riding against me like this, but that implies you're free for the taking, which you most certainly are _not_. Boy is boring. Hm. Suggestions?"

* * *

The side of his neck throbbed with the sense memory of Spike's lips and tongue. _More,_ said his neck, his chest, his cock. "I've al-always been p-partial to 'Xander'," he said, offhandedly. Or, what would be offhandedly if he could speak properly.

No hate? As if. Maybe there was some kind of residual magic afterglow thing. Or maybe whatever spell it was hadn't worked, and Spike was still bound up in the original. Whatever it was, there was unquestionably a logical explanation, and as Xander's brain was having trouble forming words that had more than two syllables, he elected not to think about it.

* * *

If he wanted, Spike knew he could've released the boy's hands and they'd stay in the same position. _But it's more fun pretending I'm really holding him._ Xander'd pulled his shirt on, so Spike contented himself with toying with his nipple through the cotton.

"Think I could make you come like this, boy? Or should I let you, since you're still resisting me? Only good boys get to come, pet, and you're not there yet." Spike hummed lowly as he arched down, feeling the curve and dip of the boy's hip-bone hard against his cock. "I suppose it's all right for now that you don't trust me. But shouldn't you trust me to be a greedy, possessive bastard, hm? One that craves sex as much as he does blood?"

* * *

Spike was doing amazing things through the shirt. _Through_ the shirt. He hadn't even managed to get it buttoned up, and it'd take exactly two seconds to rip the thing off him or even just nudge it aside, and instead Spike was actually playing with him through the material, teasing and taunting and making him want, oh, God, so bad...

_Crap. Babble._

"Okay," he began. "You make a good point, unquestionably, I mean... it's persuasive, even suave. Pretty cl-clear that you're greedy, p-possessive guy, what with being a vampire and ev-ev-every... thing... oh, God..."

His breath hitched high, all his focus on what Spike was doing.

* * *

"There you go," he soothed, in a mockery of paternal affection. "Isn't that better? I'm a possessive bastard, and I'm choosing to be possessive about _you_ , boy." Taking advantage of their difference in height, Spike dipped his head lower so he could suck on collarbone and chest. Salty skin enveloped his senses and he had to pause, groaning, to get control of himself. _Don't need a ruddy spell._

"Pick a name, pet. Or I'll pick one for you. Could call you _bitch_ , couldn't I? My pretty bitch." He stopped everything but toying with the boy's nipple -- pebbled and so hard already -- waiting for his reaction.

* * *

"Oh, my god," Xander burst out, "there is no way to answer a question like that! That is totally unfair." His nose wrinkled. "And way too estrogen-related."

* * *

Spike interrupted anything else he might've said with a kiss designed to remove every bit of thought from Xander’s head. Both his hands tightened, wrists and hardened flesh pinched between his _almost_ punishing grip, while his thigh pressed down hard enough that he felt Xander's pelvic bone rub against him.

Then he let go, taking in the panting, flushed, glaze-eyed, beautiful mess beneath him. "Not a bit of estrogen here," he purred. "All I see is a pretty bitch of a boy."

* * *

_Oh. Okay. Sure. Uh-huh. Yes, Spike._

The bruising kiss burned into him, marking him, cleverly erasing all thought. Spike was talking, liquid fire words sliding over him, licking at him, making him shiver. "Spike," he groaned, flexing his muscles so he brushed against the lean body atop him. " _Please_..."

* * *

"Please what?"

God, he'd missed begging. For that, he'd put up with a partner a hell of a lot less attractive. Fortunately, Xander really was beautiful in his debauchery, and attractive enough that Spike had long ago considered making him 'shut up' by the most expedient way possible.

"Got another fantasy, do you pretty boy? Tell me. Come on, pet, be good and tell me all about it."

* * *

"I just... I want..." He squirmed under the cool body above him. "I could tell you every fantasy I ever had about us, and none of 'em would be anything like right here, right now, Spike, _please_. I need you, please, just..."

His cheeks colored even more as he thought about it, what he had to do if he wanted Spike to... but he knew himself. The more he thought about it, the less likely he'd be to do it, so best do right now, right this minute, just get your courage up and...

Xander tentatively widened his legs, bent his knees and hugged Spike's hips with his thighs. "Please, Spike..."

* * *

"Oh, you are a pretty thing," Spike said into his ear. "Think I'm gonna give up a hot, beautiful boy just because the spell's broken? Oh, no. I want to see you naked, boy, see you worked up and hear you beg for me. Watch you ride my fingers, getting yourself ready for me to sink my cock deep inside you. Is that what you want?" His hand dropped lower between their bodies to find the hard bulge of Xander's cock beneath the denim and rubbed. Then rubbed even lower. "Want me to fuck you, pet? Want to split yourself on my cock? Let me break you in two and fuck you till you come so hard you pass out?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Yes, Spike. Please, yes." His words shivered with his body as he pushed up into Spike's hand, relishing the sweet pressure. "Don't hurt, though, okay? It'd ruin everything, just, please, just let me feel you. Let me see you, let me... oh, fuck."

Xander lifted his head, closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead over Spike's, feeling the smooth skin and eyebrows. No bumps. He was shivering with need, desperate to have Spike do everything he said, and somehow his brain kept working, kept making his mouth say words. "I... I can't shake the feeling that this is wrong, somehow, y'know? But I can't help it, I still need... Spike, I need you."

* * *

Wrong? That brought Spike up short, though he knew better than to stop rubbing. The fastest way to send the boy out the door would be to lower the levels of _want_ pouring from him like perfume.

 _What the hell is 'wrong' about this. He wants a shag -- hell, he's been wanting that for years. I remember how repressed and tight-wound the boy was, it's what attracted me to him when Angel first made that damned offer. But_ wrong? _Because two guys want to get it on, have a little bit of fun?_

But no, that wasn't right, either. There wasn't anything about Xander that screamed a man's distrust and disgust with shagging the same gender -- something Spike knew intimately, since making straight guys beg for more cock was a favorite of his. So what the hell was _wrong_ about this?

Lifting up, Spike scooped the boy up into his arms, depositing him on the bed far more gently than he should've. Shirt and shoes, jeans and boxers went flying, Spike quickly applying hand to cock again, jacking the boy thoughtfully. "Don't you worry, pet. I'm gonna give you exactly what you need. But first, you're gonna tell me what you mean by 'wrong'."

While Spike tried to figure out what the hell they could use for lube. No _way_ was he taking virginal Xander dry -- the chip was allowing him some wiggle room, for unknown reasons, but Spike knew better than to push his luck that much.

* * *

"I... I was..." He was trying to talk, but oh, it was hard. Hard, especially, with Spike's cool, clever fingers wrapped around him, slowly working up and down the burning length of him. Xander was tense with need, thrusting desperately up into Spike's fingers.

A thought occurred. He lifted his hands above his head, clasped his wrists like a Chinese finger trap and observed as Spike looked down at him, lust blazing in his eyes. _Fuck's sake..._ Xander thrashed under that gaze and tried not to come just from the simple thought of Spike touching his dick.

* * *

" _Good_ boy." His cock hardened at the vision of stretched out and thoroughly submissive Xander. But he still needed -- there! Eyes drawn up the length of Xander's taut arms, he caught sight of the bed stand and a left over bottle of someone's lotion. It wasn't the greatest, but it was better than nothing at all.

Leaning forward, he distracted Xander with a kiss while he grabbed the bottle. "But you didn't answer me, pet. And I'll have that answer -- or we're going to see if the chip will allow me spanking you in punishment."

Another test; the boy was such a treasure-trove of kinks.

* * *

_Oh god please yes please please want you so much Spike please..._

Oh, the thought of it. Cursed imagination, that allowed him to see it so well -- his own body bent over the bed, knees wide, ass high in the air, awaiting the first slap. Spike pressed up against him, firm palm swinging down... and then? God only knew. But he wanted it, oh, yes. Wanted it now, immediately, and began to shove himself up so he could make it happen, red blush spread all over his cheeks.

* * *

The growl Spike made was the darkest, evilest yet. The flush of blood was moving down Xander’s chest, practically to his belly, and Spike firmly shoved all thoughts of wanting to take a taste from his mind. That's not what this was about -- for now.

Maintaining the hair-raising, almost-but-not-quite-angry growl, Spike flipped Xander over and spared himself one second of worry. One second of demonic prayer. One second of taking in the firm curves of Xander's arse, how high and perfect they were, even if they weren't the bubble-butt he honestly preferred. This would do nicely, though. More than nicely.

 _He wants it, he wants it, I'm not_ hurting _him_ , he chanted while his hand came crashing down in a sharp _smack_ of sound. His hand burned from the friction and heat of Xander's body but the chip ... the chip stayed silent.

* * *

"Uh!" The sound burst from him as the sensation rushed through his body. Everything was still, then, and Xander let his head rest down on his arms while he waited for the next. His cock was dripping hard, he could feel himself leaking onto the sheets, and when the next one came - smack! - the pain was almost incidental. Spike was stoking a furnace inside him, and making his hips shift across those sheets with every slap, and it was nothing but hot, hot pleasure, intense and burning and all over him. It was easy, so easy, just to allow Spike to take him and use him and make him good, make him feel...

How did he feel? Dirty, wrong, good, hot, and his heartbeat thrummed all through his body, throbbing with each pulse. Incoherent sounds came slipping from him, wrung from him by the insistent pressure building in his cock, by Spike's hand crashing down on his ass.

* * *

Spike had to yank himself back, stopping himself from letting the five or ten hard smacks go further, managing it only by the skin of his teeth. But god, watching Xander writhe, filling the room with the heady scent of the _god yes please_ he was too incoherent to say ...

Pouring out a mess of lotion on his fingers, Spike spread Xander's legs to the tune of a broken moan, delving between reddened cheeks. "Now then," he said, rubbing over Xander's entrance, getting it slippery and loose without ever pressing inside. "You mentioned something about this being 'wrong', boy. I want you to tell me what you meant. Or I stop."

Well, he _could_ stop. Maybe. Potentially. Much as he wanted to know what the hell Xander meant and as fun as it was to torment him, Spike wanted to fuck him more.

* * *

What? Stop? _No!!_

He slid up on his knees, slow as he could, not wanting to lose those amazing freaking fingers for one single second. He spread his thighs wide, his face smooshed into the pillow, and felt himself loosen up, felt Spike's finger slide more easily over his hot skin.

Nobody. Nobody had _ever_. Just Xander himself, one really intense session in the shower, and then another few times on the bed, once he'd found it didn't hurt. Spike in his head, the one to do this, always Spike's fingers over him, in him, pushing through and having. Because Spike would do that. Spike would want everything, wouldn't accept anything less.

A sound reached his ears; he recognized his own voice, operating without his knowledge. "Don't stop, Spike, please, keep, please, don't stop touching me, have to have, please, so much, Spike..."

* * *

"Then answer my question, pet." The tip of his forefinger slipped inside, wiggling around without going further. "Come on, be a good boy for me. Good boys get treats."

* * *

"Uhhh... 'kay, then you gotta... gotta st-stop doing that... oh... my..."

* * *

_Good boy._ Spike worked his finger back and forth, trying not to groan at the burning heat that clenched around him, trying to grasp him even tighter. God, what that'd feel like around his cock ...

Working his finger to the first knuckle, Spike held that hand still, the other resting comfortably on the radiating skin of Xander's arse. Kneading very, _very_ lightly. "What's so wrong about this, Xander?"

* * *

Xander felt his muscles clench around Spike's finger, felt that finger cool and soothing against the burn of his muscles, and tried not to scream.

"I... I'm not _supposed_ to! I shouldn't do this, with you, shouldn't be with you, shouldn't want you like this..."

He squirmed against Spike's finger. He wanted more now, more in him, more of Spike. "But I do... I want, please..."

* * *

Spike growled, low and long in his chest, knowing the boy -- _his_ boy -- would feel it shiver through his body. "Almost, pet, but not quite. Why's that bad, hm? Why aren't you supposed to? Because where I'm sitting, the only things you aren't _supposed_ to do are things you don't want to. If you want it... "

He let his words hang in the air, taunting Xander to respond. The boy was so beautiful when he was tormented.

* * *

Xander shuddered with the ricochet of Spike's voice rippling through his body. He was going to shiver apart, collapse into pieces, wanting Spike this badly.

Images flitted over his mind as he tried to answer the question -- horrified faces of his friends if he confessed to them that he had done this, and not even for the gay thing, which would be so much easier. _Spike_ , though... hated, resented Spike, force of evil, no matter how many times they'd allied with him...

They'd never forgive him. This was not supposed to happen.

And yet here he lay, naked, on a hotel bed with a creature he should hate, shivering in pleasure at the thought of being touched by him.

"You're evil," he groaned, meaning that as both an answer and an accusation as he pushed back in tiny increments, hoping that was enough, hoping it was good enough, and that Spike would just please, God, _please_ , keep going.

* * *

"Yeah, and?" Greedy boy was pushing back at him, trying to suck him down deep within where Spike wanted to be. But not yet. 

First he had to make the boy understand that this _wasn't_ going to vanish with sun's light, soap-bubbles that pop and disappear without even a film to remember them by. He'd keep Xander for as long as he could, and that meant friends and parents and poor little humans stuck in the metaphorical closet without a light. He had to get Xander to discuss it, at least think about how to _deal_ with it, or this would only be a fuck.

A damn _fine_ fuck, but Spike knew he could have that. He wanted more.

* * *

"So I can't _have_ you!" Xander burst out, suddenly angry. Was Spike being deliberately Angel-brained? Xander twisted around to look at Spike over his shoulder, talking more to himself than anyone.

"You don't fit, no matter how I try to turn the pieces around, you won't, because you're evil and I'm not. And you don't want me anyway, so it doesn't matter! I don't get why you do now, and I think it's the spell, but I'm not missing it, no way. I don't think you can take advantage of an evil guy, even if he's full of magic roofies, but even if I were taking advantage, I'd still do this. Because at least I can pretend that it's not all going away any second and I can get a taste of what it'd be like to have you. So quit asking pointless questions and fuck me, already, because it might wear off, and then you'll leave..."

Xander didn't want to think anymore.

* * *

He pulled himself free of Xander’s body abruptly, his hand crashing down over the boy's ass, knuckles smarting before he realized it. _Don't fire, don't fire, don't fire --_

When no pain came, Spike repeated his backhanded slap, this time a little harder, catching Xander’s balls in a punishing grip. There was still no pain. _Fuck, he's such a perfect little bottom-boy. Loves each and every thing I give him. For this, pretty boy, I'd give up a hell of a lot._

"Spell's over, pet, and it's time you realize it. Only thing keeping me here is _me_. As for going away, well, I think you're laboring under a misapprehension." He smacked again, just for the hell of it, and changed his grip to massaging instead of painful. "I'm toothless, pet. Got nothing to bite and nothing to fight. I'm _dependent_ on you and yours. Not gonna rock the blood-boat, and with _you_ as a pretty little incentive, well, I suppose I could do more than just play along. But _only_ if you're _mine_ , boy."

* * *

Xander's brain was fighting with itself. In this corner, in the blue trunks, was the urge to shake off his sort-of-trance, listen to what Spike was saying and see if it made any kind of sense. _Dependant on us. Needs us for blood. Therefore... wants me. Nope. Senseless._ This urge was skinny and his boxing gloves looked too big for him.

And in this corner, in the red trunks, weighing in at one _million_ pounds, was the big, throbbing, nigh-painful urge to shut up and fuck, to leap on Spike and kiss him senseless, to force him to keep going, _needing_ his touch, his fingers, his cock. This urge was somebody. This urge was a _contender_.

His ass was stinging, warm skin pulsing with blood. His face flushed as he realized that he wanted more, wanted those sharp shocks of pain that immediately faded into a glowy, relaxed thing and made his cock twitch and drip.

"Ummm," he said, part thought process and part groan, panting breath cooling his lungs.

"I have to be... yours?" His sex-soaked brain found that word in Spike's speech, picked it up and looked at it blearily. "Yours..." He tested the word, liked the taste of it. "Yours," he affirmed, with a little gusto. He pushed back against Spike's hand, gently. Spike could call Xander his if he wanted to, just so long as he kept moving that infuriatingly still finger. "I'm yours, just take me, just, come on, do it..."

* * *

Spike pulled his hands completely away, folding them behind his back to stop them from reaching out involuntarily. "Ah ah," he teased. "Have to _mean_ it. Won't get what you want until you do."

He could hear Xander still repeating that fateful, dick-throbbing word, and reveled in it. _Just a little bit more,_ he silently encouraged. _Just a little bit more, boy, and you'll be mine._

"Say it," slipped out before he could stop it. "You _want_ it, pet, and I'll let you have it. Just say it, keep saying it, prove to me you're mine. Convince me that you want to be mine. Just say it."

* * *

_No!_ "Yours!" he blurted out, not knowing anything but the feel of his muscles clenching on nothing, nothing at all, alone and neglected. "Yours, Spike, please..."

He dropped his head back down to the pillows, stretched his arms as high up as he could and spread his legs wide, tense and trembling, shaking his head back and forth gently as he let his lips make the words that Spike wanted.

"Yours, yours, yours, I'm yours, just, please, want you, so much, Spike, yours, yours, yours..."

* * *

Begging. It'd been so long, and the sound of him, so sweet ... but for all Spike loved torture, he knew when enough was enough.

"Shh," he soothed, surging up and over Xander's body to kiss sweat-slick skin, flushed and burning against his lips. His hands stroked over flank and buttocks before finding the place they both wanted his fingers to be, sinking two fully inside without any warning. "Good boy, Xander. That's a good, good boy. Shhh. I'm here, pet, and I'll take good care of you. Give you what you need. Come on, pet. Fuck back on my fingers, now, good boy."

* * *

Xander's mouth opened and wouldn't close, eyes shut tight, a sighing relief flooding through him at the stretch, finally, burning and good, so good. "Spike," he sighed, shoving back against those fingers as he'd been told, reveling in how they stayed and pushed in him and didn't just go like they'd done before.

His fists clenched tight, his muscles strained. He felt the burn in his thighs as they struggled against the unaccustomed position and loved that too, the heavy weight of Spike against his back so strange and welcome. "Spike, god, yours, I'm yours. So _good_ , so... ahhh, fuck..."

* * *

"Yeah, you are," Spike purred into the boy's ear, nibbling the lobe as he twisted his fingers, adding the third. "Desperate and eager and mine. All mine. Gonna fuck you till you can't see straight, boy. Fuck you till you pass out with my cock still inside you. And you want it, don't you? You want to wake up with me still inside you, still taking you."

Hot, fluttery insides contracted around him, pressing down deeper so that the ridge of his knuckles almost slipped in. God, his new pet was so _greedy_ for it. Xander's breathing was harsh, erratic, and hot enough that it felt like a jungle inside the cheap motel room.

"Think you're ready for me, boy?" He nipped slightly, timing it with a smack on the boy's quivering cheeks. Immediately, Xander clenched even tighter and moaned. "Gonna break you open. Make you _scream_." He smacked again, "while I split you in two."

* * *

"Yes," Xander groaned, the sound forced out of him by the light shocks of Spike's hand on his ass, his bones liquefied by Spike's low, growling voice. "God, yes, ready. Want you, Spike, want to f-feel you." His voice broke on his harsh breaths as he rocked on Spike's hand, face hot with the need to come.

He realized his own cock was aching hard, and tried to reach underneath his belly to try to touch, squeeze, relieve some of the incredible pressure...

* * *

Quick as a flash, Spike pulled out -- purposefully rough -- landing four harsh blows with his sopping hand. "Did I say you could touch yourself?" he growled, nothing but his mouth and the back of his hand touching Xander.

* * *

"No!" Xander choked out, squirming, his hand flying back up to its original position. He shook with the rough withdrawal, with the sting -- it was so hot, made him squirm with needing, but if it meant he couldn't have the touch, he'd sooner die than provoke it again. "You didn't say, I just... I was... I'm sorry! Please, I won't, I didn't mean to, I won't, I won't, I promise. Spike, please..."

* * *

Same pattern as before -- Spike shushed and crooned, working three, then four fingers inside Xander's vise-tight body, adding the occasional pinch of hip and heaving stomach randomly. It felt so _good_ to hurt, especially given how much Xander loved it.

"Shhh. It's all right, didn't tell you, did I? Just assumed you knew already, since you're such an eager little slut. But now you know, pet. No touching until I tell you. No nothing without my telling, all right? Say it, pet. Tell me you're mine, and you'll be good for me. My good boy."


	6. Chapter 6

"I'll be good, I'll be good, I'll be good. I promise, Spike, I'll be... oh, _Jesus_..."

Stretched so wide, wider than anything. He didn't know he could open that far, but Spike's fingers pried and pinched and taught him different. The tiny bursts of pain softened him at just the right moments, distracting him from the impossible-yet-so-good things going on behind him, softening him when he tightened too much.

"Yours, Spike. I'm yours..." It was all sighs now, as he tried to spread himself wider, just take what Spike gave. He would endure, he had to endure, and then, if he did, if he was... good... he would get what he wanted.

His cheeks burned with shame, and he was grateful that the pillow hid his face as he buried it in the softness.

* * *

He could come just like this, probably. Working his new boy into desire-soaked oblivion, each cry and moaned assurance wrapping around his cock the way the boy's lips had not an hour before.

Kissing his way along the upward sweep of Xander's back, Spike removed fingers wet with lotion and the boy's own body, swiping them up his cock. Lining himself up afforded him a chance to pinch the base, forcing himself to calm down enough that he could take Xander as long and hard as he planned.

"You feel so good, pet," he teased, rubbing the head of his cock against distended, grasping flesh. "Feel so hot. Think I can make you hotter?" His right hand ducked down, grabbing the boy's balls and squeezing a touch harder than he had before. "Want me," he ordered.

* * *

"Want you," Xander breathed, echoing, tension ratcheting up in his belly with the feeling of Spike's naked cock pushing against him. Dimly, he remembered that they were supposed to have... something...

"Oh, wait, shit, waitwait. Is... are we..." His face was on fire now, as he tried to ask this question, too late, too far now to back down, body screaming in protest as he reined it back from just shoving onto Spike's cock and grinding like he wanted to. He buried his face in the pillow and hoped Spike would just miraculously understand, because he was too embarrassed to say it.

* * *

Spike kept rubbing the head of his cock against the boy's ass, up and down and up and down, while Xander's muscles tried to catch him, like those stupid arcade games with a deeply kinky twist. What on earth was the boy asking for? He had lube, made sure the boy was stretched out and ready for it, as gentlemanly as could be. So what...?

He laughed, when it finally occurred to him what Xander wanted, and smacked the boy's ass hardest yet, twice, three times, then four, listening to him cry out in twisted pleasure below him.

The minute his hand lifted up from the final blow, Spike sent up a breath of a prayer to those that watched over demons. _Don't fire, you hear me? Don't you fucking go off._ Then he _slammed_ forward, burying himself in the boy's virgin ass until he was inside as far as the position allowed.

Only _then_ did he lean forward, trying desperately to ignore the heated, velvet glove that milked him, to find the boy's ear and whisper, "Nothing you can catch from me, boy, that I don't want you to have."

* * *

No thought now, no thinking, just Spike in him, _deep_ in him, cool hips against the burning warmth of the skin that had been spanked, soothing and incredibly tense-making, all at the same time.

There'd been no warning, just teasing and taunting, and then a quiet laugh, before this barrage of sensory overload, Spike's hand, and Spike's cock, and all thought was absolutely erased. Now his throbbing dick was begging for attention, and he could hear the whine his throat made as he breathed -- breathed, for Spike, all for Spike, who was the director of this play -- and suddenly any pain just faded right out, and Xander would do anything, _anything_ , to make Spike move.

* * *

Spike waited for a response, chuckling as much as he could. He didn't need air, but he still felt breathless and crazy from being inside Xander. _Fucking him. Fucking my boy._ When none came but for the tiny, whining noises Xander made with each choked-off breath, he laughed again but didn't move.

And still didn't.

He ticked through what felt like eternity -- probably no more than a full minute -- before he purred, " _Good_ boy, pet. Very good. You get a reward."

His flesh cried out as he eased himself back out of Xander's body, hating to leave the warmth, the wet, the feeling of rightness of being balls-deep inside of Xander. But he slipped back until only the head was inside, shivering as the heat fell away -- and then _slammed_ back in, harder than the first time.

* * *

Xander cried out, a hoarse, open-mouthed, high-pitched moan jolted out of him by the incredible slick and scrape of Spike's cock inside him.

As if, with that one sound, Xander's mouth remembered it could talk, he felt the heat rush through him and his cock shiver as he started to babble.

"Oh, my god. Oh, god, oh, good, oh, so... Spike, you're so... ohhh, yes, yes, yes, yours, please, Spike, unh..."

He edged back against Spike's body, pushing with his hips, trying to feel that blessed friction again, wanting more.

* * *

Spike snarled, slapping down over side and raised belly. "Hold still," he ordered, passion making him sound angry. "You wanted to be fucked, boy, and you will be. Hold still. Or I'll _make_ you hold still. Tie you down, stretched and taut, till you _can't_ move."

* * *

Xander squirmed and twisted, pushed harder, openly asking for it. _Fuck, yes, yes, do that, do it, tie me down and make me take it, force me to take you fucking me. I want that, Spike, yes, I want it, want you, yours, yes, please..._

* * *

"Gotta choose," he offered, still slowly sliding out before roughly shoving back inside. His left hand slid underneath Xander's body, finding a distended nipple. Forgoing the normal pinch, he gave it vicious twist. "You can either behave, let me fuck you now, and tie you up later. Or you can continue bein' bad, and make me _stop_ fucking you."

* * *

_Okay, ow!_

His nipple throbbed, but the promise of later tying-up, and the much more important threat of stopping now made Xander freeze in place and try to calm down, relax his muscles. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. You said... that you'd... and I..." Xander couldn't think of an end to that sentence that wasn't extremely embarrassing and settled for something he knew was acceptable.

"I'll be good," he whispered, his cheeks coloring again, and Xander cursed them for doing it. _Said it like a thousand times already. Pay attention! God, I'm such a slut._

* * *

Spike chuckled, staying deeply inside the boy while his hips moved in a slow circle. The flash of _real_ hurt hadn't set the chip off, but it had changed the smell enough that Spike could recognize it. He stroked the nipple he'd just pinched -- _not_ an apology, just a means of teasing Xander even more.

"You want to be tied up, pet? My, such a kinky boy under all this vanilla exterior. Stretched out till it hurts. Can't do anything but take everything I give you, hm? Is that what you're after?"

Still thrusting lightly, Spike slid his hand down the length of Xander's body, stretching to reach his wrists. "Lift up," he ordered. "Hold here." Closing first one, then the other of Xander's hands on the headboard, his body was forced to lift up so that he was suspended between the cheap, wooden headboard and Spike's cock. "Can't tie your legs, boy, but don't worry. We'll do that next time."

Loving the way Xander's muscles tensed and rolled, Spike grabbed the boy's hips and started again. Slow out, fast in, gradually speeding up until he was jackknifing in and out of his boy, fucking him as roughly as he wanted.

* * *

"Ohhh, yeah..." Xander fought with everything he had to stay still, not to move, not to buck and writhe on Spike's cock, because it'd stop, it'd all stop if he did, and that could not be allowed to happen, not for anything.

His own hard dick dripped onto the sheets, totally without contact. He whimpered as Spike ground into him, amongst the flood of words.

"So good, fuck, yes, yes... yours, I'm yours. God, Spike, god... fuck me. Feels so good, Spike, fuck me. Mmm..." The words made Spike crazy behind him, slamming forward, and the reverberation of a hungry snarl chased around Xander's body. He burned with the shame of the words, insisting on being said despite that, and he thought maybe now, it might be, he could get away with it...

"Spike... I need... touch me? Please, Spike, please touch me... it's so... it's... I need you, please, please, I need your hand..."

* * *

Spike snarled and fucked faster. He'd wanted to get the boy off with his cock alone, but ... _but he's been good for me, quiet and willing, and he deserves a reward._

"Don't come," he ordered, detaching a hand to wrap it around Xander's cock. "Good boy," he purred when Xander _creeled_ , cock throbbing, but didn't come. "Very good. Now, pet. I know you're stretched out, all open for whatever I want to do to you. But I want you to fuck my fist, pet. Want you to push that pretty red arse against me, riding my cock like the perfect boy you are."

Spike pressed against the very bottom of the head of Xander's cock, finding that little vee of sensitivity while he angled and re-angled his cock until he was sure he was positioned right to hit the boy's prostate.

"Come on, boy. Fuck my cock until I come inside you."

* * *

Spike did... something.

Xander wasn't sure what it was. He didn't really have time to think about it. He did know that one minute, he was being fucked, and it was good, stretchy and open and above all, _Spike_.

But then, Spike did... something. And all of a sudden, every time Spike slammed inside him, hips smacking against his ass, his body splayed wide, something deep in him... _exploded_.

_Repeatedly._

And there was a hand on his cock, tickling at the tenderest of places. And Spike told him to move, growling deep words, _fuck my cock_ , that made every tiny particle in his body sit up and pay attention, even with the ringing in his ears and showers of pinpricks that flowed over him every time Spike did that something.

But Xander was not. Supposed. To come.

He threw himself back against Spike, praying that he could make Spike come as soon as humanly possible. He squirmed and pushed, breath sobbing in and out of his lungs, shattering his words as he tried to get them out.

"P-please, Spike, please... c-come inside me, come, please, let me come, gotta come. G-g-god, f-feel you ev-ev-everywhere, s-so _good_ , Spike, please..."

He was crying now, body screaming with the need to come, the drive toward blessed relief, and he desperately fucked himself between Spike's fist and cock, tears pouring down his cheeks as he begged to be allowed to come.

* * *

Spike wanted to hold on, to tease and torment the boy who'd _wanted_ to be taken, but he couldn’t. Not when Xander was so desperate to come that he was sobbing. The familiar need for Spike to make a decision, denied by the chip, flooded him with lust and he started fucking into Xander, pace harsh and fast.

But more importantly, Spike wanted to reward such a good, good boy. "Come," growled, so low that the bed seemed to vibrate with the word. "Come for _me_ , boy."

* * *

Every muscle in Xander's body tightened, all at once, and his vision went black as the orgasm tore through him, hollowed him out and erased him. He shivered and shook, wracked with the insane pleasure, knuckles white on the headboard and a high, animal cry pouring from his lips.

* * *

Spike watched, greedily enjoying the way Xander seemed to devolve in his pleasure, turning animalistic. Beautiful.

"Yes," he encouraged, fucking still as the boy emptied himself all over the bed. "Yes. My boy. Mine." Muscles clamped impossibly tight around him, but he was a vampire with preternatural strength; he kept fucking, kept thrusting his cock in so deep he could almost pierce the heart that pounded within Xander's chest. "Yes. Good boy, that's -- that's -- "

Spike threw his head back and shouted blue murder when he finally came, filling the boy with his spunk, marking him his, always _Spike's_.

True to his word, he didn't pull out after the last tremor finally faded, gasping for air as he jerked and shuddered within Xander's body. He _did_ reach up, unclamping Xander's hands. "Good boy," he praised, easing them both back onto the bed. Wrapping his arms around Xander's body, he praised and kissed. "Such a good boy for me, pet. Such a perfect little boy."

* * *

Xander curled into Spike's body with a weary groan, throwing one thigh over Spike's hip and sighing contentedly. His whole body buzzed and sang with pleasure and a little soreness, and he felt his eyes drooping closed.

 _Buffy,_ he thought. _I should call Buffy, check in, let her know I'm okay..._

"Okay," he murmured, before sinking into slumber.

* * *

Spike stayed awake while Xander's breath slowed, his heart settling into the rhythms of sleep. It was amazing how many injustices and keenly felt injuries slid away with the presence of the warm boy sleeping trustingly against him.

 _Still not the Big Bad anymore, but to him, I am. Big enough and bad enough to make him scream, do whatever I tell him to._ Oh, he knew the boy wanted it, obeyed with a willing eagerness that he'd have to find the source of, eventually. But Spike wasn't so concerned with the _why_ , just the _how_. _And how pretty he looked, so scared that I'd stop and punish him._

Pleasantly aching in ways he hadn't for too long -- Harmony was only good when she stopped talking and let him do whatever he wanted to her -- Spike worked the blankets out to cover both of them. The boy's heat was like a crackling fire, heating the sheets so that Spike was warm all over.

"Now, no losin’ it when you wake up," he cautioned, pulling Xander more firmly to him. "No forgetting."


	7. Chapter 7

Xander was dreaming. It was warm, and he felt sweaty and restless. He stretched his arms, tossed his head, but the feeling stayed. It crept through him, this warmth, with tendrils that wrapped around his thighs and wrists and stroked lightly. His skin felt tingly, and he wanted... something. He just _wanted_. He ran his tongue over his lips, and tasted something good.

Slowly, he began to float up to the waking world, wanting more.

* * *

Spike woke the minute the boy started twitching in his sleep. For a few blissful hours, his own rest had been the deep, sated kind of sleep that only came when Spike knew everything was right with the world. Not that it _was_ , but Spike had his boy tucked safe in his arms, bodies well shagged and sticky with their passion, and that was more than enough for Spike's internal pressure level to beep at full.

But all too soon his sleep was restless, light, wary that Xander would slip out as soon as he 'remembered'. And that just wouldn't do.

"Shh." Spike stroked down the vertebrae in Xander's neck, the tendons there overly tense as Xander twisted and searched for whatever it was his sleeping mind desired. "Relax, pretty, just relax."

* * *

In his dream, he pushed his hands against the tendrils that held him, moving his mouth forward to find the source of that good taste. Out in the real world, Xander pushed Spike's hands away from him and leaned forward to lick his chest. Humming with pleasure, he continued, hands running over the exposed flesh, burrowing under the blankets as he licked down, pushing his hips against Spike's thighs. A muffled 'good' came from under the blanket.

* * *

Spike stretched, rolling like a contented kitten. That pushed Xander even closer to his growing cock, something Spike wasn't upset about. Threading his fingers through the boy's hair, Spike made sure he wasn't directing, wasn't forcing, just holding. Warmth rose up to bathe the skin of his palm, oils from sleeping through the night making the strands slick.

"Good boy," he said, voice low and soft so not to shake Xander out of whatever dream or trance he was in. "Very good boy."

* * *

More of the good, salty taste was found, lower and lower, it seemed. As Xander fumbled through his dream state, blindly searching a tiny, dark, sweaty cavern for the perfect donut, his hands stole over Spike's body, soon coming to rest on the dripping cock he found poking up from Spike's hips.

 _Ah ha!_ he imagined in his dream state. _Icing!_ He dipped his head and licked.

He was immediately shocked into consciousness by the solid, real feel of flesh under his tongue.

He sat up and threw off the covers, straddling Spike's thighs, both of them naked, his hand wrapped around Spike's cock and the taste of pre-come on his tongue. His eyes wide, Xander's mouth opened and closed, but nothing would come out.

* * *

_Damn!_

Not that this was a _problem_ , though, not with Xander giving him a big-eyed look of shock, mouth flapping like a guppy's. Smirking from his prone position, Spike cupped the boy's jaw, stilling it, his thumb rubbing along the soft, wet lower lip.

"Morning, boy. Sleep well, hm?"

Pressing inside for just a moment -- wouldn't do to give the lad a chance to bite -- Spike removed his hand and let it splay over Xander's chest. The muscles tensed under his touch, starting to heave from quickening breath.

 _Should give him something to pant about._ While the thought of reintroducing Xander to what his life was now had its appeal, he wasn't sure he wanted to expend the effort. Particularly since his cock was rather urgently demanding to go back into the boy's luscious mouth. To distract Xander, then, Spike found the boy's nipple and tweaked it lightly. "Good dreams?"

* * *

_Oh, God, yes, good dreams..._

Xander knelt at Spike's waist, unable to believe what he was seeing. Spike was supposed to be gone, or trying to kill him. _Crazy vampires won't do what they're supposed to..._

He would run. He _should_ run. Except that his hand was wrapped around Spike's rock-hard dick, and Spike was smiling at him like that, and the touch, oh, mmm, yeah, with a little twist and squeeze that...

* * *

Eyes half-shut with pleasure, Xander looked nothing less than a little boy who'd been told Christmas did exist and here was Santa to give him a pressie. _Except this isn't a Family Approved kind of pressie, is it?_

"You stopped, pet. About to give me a nice wake up, the kind you're gonna give me lots of mornings, and you stopped." He allowed his smile to turn just a hint wicked, hand busy on the boy's chest, finding all the places that made him moan. "Should punish you for that, maybe. But first... want a suck, boy? Want to feel me in your mouth, heavy and wet, filling you with my spunk?"

* * *

The words slammed into him with the force of a Mack truck. _Mental note: never tell Spike fantasies again._

"Yeah," he heard his voice say, and then, startled, looked at Spike wide-eyed as though he could explain it. Spike, of course, smirked and continued his explorations, over collarbone and navel, sides and nipples.

Then something swum up out of his memory and he grimaced. "But, uh... ohhh.... mm. I think maybe we should wash you... off... first... oh, God..."

* * *

"Uh huh." Spike rubbed his palm over the boy's heaving belly, enjoying the hardness turning into flexible soft with each breath. "But you don't want to, do you, boy? You want me any way you can get me. Want to lower yourself down, supplicating. Let your mouth taste how good we are, mixed together."

Turning Xander into a puddle of lust was _fun_.

But he did, unfortunately, have a point. Xander hadn't been overwhelmingly dirty before they'd had their fun, but he hadn't been as clean as Spike would make him, later. So, shower then -- because Spike would have his morning blowjob, and Xander would oh so willingly give it to him.

_Mm. Boy, on his knees, water plastering his hair to his head…_

He surged up from the bed, quick enough that Xander gasped in shock, capturing the boy's mouth while he took Xander's hand, wrapping it around the boy's already hard cock. "Stroke yourself, pet," he said, foreheads nearly touching he was so close, his breath making Xander's hair wave. "I want to watch you. Get nice and hard for me, boy."

* * *

Spike didn't have to ask twice. Instantly, Xander was rubbing and stroking, gentle and teasing. Spike had said nice and hard, so he would get it -- this wasn't for getting off, this was for something else. When the tip of his cock brushed against Spike's belly, Xander moaned high in his throat.

* * *

That noise… Spike chased it, mouthing along Xander's throat to find that sweet, ball-tingling noise that Xander made. All he found was hot flesh, but that didn't disappoint him.

"Good boy. Now, then. Don't let go, all right? Don't stop stroking yourself, nice and slow."

Slithering off the bed, Spike picked Xander _up_ , holding him around the stomach until he was certain the boy's feet were firmly on the floor. Then he walked him backwards, keeping an eye out for anything Xander could trip on and still watching that hand, tanned even darker when compared to the reddened flush of his cock, continue to move. Spike moved him into the bathroom, stopping him with a touch on his shoulder.

Turning on the water, Spike was very relieved to find it immediately running hot. The mineral tang was too strong, interfering with his scent of horny, willing boy, but for heat it was a small price to pay.

"In the shower, pet. On your knees. You need to learn to clean up your toys after playin' with them."

* * *

Xander hit his knees and crawled into the shower, practically shivering with want. His cock was aching, dying for Spike's touch, getting only his own -- totally insufficient. As soon as he felt the tile under his knees, he turned to find Spike, wanting to touch him, to suck him as Spike had promised. On his knees again, yes, please, yes...

* * *

Spike stepped into the shower, drawing the curtain closed with a screech of plastic on abused metal. Facing _away_ from Xander, he reached for the bar of soap -- _thank Christ this motel has delusions of grandeur_ \-- freshly wrapped and waiting on the ledge and unwrapped it -- but didn't turn around.

He heard the boy's breathing hitch with confusion as the water streamed around him, soaking him thoroughly and sending waves of heat through his body. _Mmm. Love hot water_. He waited a few moments longer, waiting for that telltale tremor in the beat of Xander's heart, the confusion, the scent of fear that he would be abandoned after all…

_Lovely._

Slowly turning around, Spike smirked down at Xander's shivering body -- and then handed over the soap, _without_ instruction.

* * *

Xander accepted the soap with a flood of relief. He rubbed it between his hands fast, working up a healthy white lather, and then placed it between his knees and reached for Spike's cock.

* * *

Spike stopped him, a particularly evil smile stretching his face. "Say please, pretty boy."

* * *

"Please," Xander begged, looking up into Spike's face and pushing close to him without reservation. Had to wash Spike, get him clean, so Xander could have that thick cock in his mouth, suck it on his knees, feel the water sluice over him as he tickled with his tongue.

* * *

The surge of lust and power was enough that Spike could ignore the hint of affection, smatterings of brown through gold and red, cupping his dripping hand through Xander's hair. "Good boy. Don't need to train you at all, do I? Such a good boy for me."

* * *

Xander shook his head, agreeing. "No, you don't need to. I'm good, I can be good. Let me, Spike, let me..." He lifted his hands, frothy and white with lather, creep closer and closer to Spike's cock.

* * *

"Go on, boy. I want to feel you."

Spike didn't release his grip in Xander's hair -- _gonna make him grow it out long, give me something to wrap around my hand_ \-- as those big, work-roughened hands slid up his thighs to the prize standing tall in between. He made noises depending on what Xander did, guiding him into the perfect level of pressure and speed.

* * *

Xander's first instinct was to go fast. Soap up that thick, hard length, take away anything undesirable, and then rinse it all off, so it was perfect and beautiful and, above all, suckable. But as his hands moved over the soft, pale skin, Spike made tiny sounds of pleasure and encouragement, hands in Xander's hair, and Xander whined under his breath before doing exactly as Spike wanted. Because what else could he do?

He worked his hands up and down Spike's cock, squeezing and stroking, learning what pleased Spike best. That was something, anyway...

Now all he had to do was ignore his watering mouth, and his own very insistent cock, and he was set.

* * *

Spike let Xander stroke him clean for much longer than the amount of gunk covering him warranted. It was too easy to tease Xander, and Spike loved every moment of it.

"Got me nice and ready, don't you? Let go, boy. Let me rinse off." Turning sideways so the water splashed against the boy's face, Spike gripped the base of his cock and let the hot water run all over his lower body, rinsing the suds clean. He was fairly certain that it wasn't just water wetting the boy's chin but drool as well -- but then, what kind of vampire would Spike be, if he didn't draw this out as long as he could?

* * *

"Spike," Xander whispered, aching with want. He didn't care what this was, how it happened. All he knew was need, and he couldn't think past that right now.

* * *

"Ready for this, boy?" The question was rhetorical but asking it would drag this out that much longer. "Ready for me to fill your throat, boy? Stretch you open while you suck and suck like the mindless little boy you are?"

* * *

He could almost feel the muscles below opening in readiness. It was hot in the shower, the water steaming up the glass door, and he felt his skin on fire all over. "Yes," he breathed, resting his hands on Spike's thighs and darting his tongue over the soft hip. "Yes, Spike, please..."

* * *

"Hands off," Spike ordered. Gripping the base of his cock, Spike ran the head over Xander's parted lips. Breath hotter and wetter than the steam around them blew over his cock, warming it as it remembered the burgeoning talent of the mouth he teased.

Pre-come dribbled out from the tip, coating the boy's lips like messy, translucent lipstick. Beautiful. He wondered how loudly Xander would scream if he suggested a facial?

Pressing his head at the center of Xander's soft, distended lips, Spike pushed in. "Suck me, boy. Hands only when I say you can use 'em."

* * *

Xander darted his tongue over his lips, feeling the soft head of Spike's cock against his mouth. The flavor of him burst over Xander's tongue, and his mouth watered again -- he'd wanted this taste back since he first had it. He hummed around Spike's length and twisted his hands together, trying not to use them.

Closer and closer he edged on his knees, intently focused on the water-warmed length on his tongue. He fluttered and twisted his tongue, sucked hard, fully intending to blow Spike's mind out right through his cock. He wanted to make Spike come, and he used every moan, every sound of approval he earned as an instant cue to do whatever he just did a second time.

* * *

_Fuck, he learns_ fast. Spike wasn't objecting, though, welcoming the wet heat that let him ride in as rough as he wanted. Grunts and gasps escaped from the boy's mouth, mixing with the noises Spike freely made as Xander used every trick he'd learned the night before and tried out a few more for size.

* * *

_Come on,_ thought Xander, his knuckles white as he fought with himself not to touch. _Don't touch, not time to touch. Come on, do it. I want it from you, please, come on. Just this, just give me this and I can get through what's coming when you sober up or whatever and realize what you're doing. Just give me this._

* * *

Urgency smelled like dry, burning parchment, choking him despite the heady lust and mind-filling steam that clouded the shower stall. Xander _wanted_ , so badly that it verged on pain to Spike's sensitive nose. He rode into the boy's mouth, hand curled protectively around the back of his head, wondering just what it was that Xander wanted so badly. _Turning into a cock-hound, is my boy, and aren't I glad of that? But if he's got me, sucking on me so sweet, aching for me to come -- why's it feel like there's something else? Like he wants more?_

Spike tightened his grip around wet clumps of curls, tugging lightly to make Xander look up at him. "What's got you so desperate, hm?" he mused. His voice was slow, considering, and ragged from the constant pressure and warmth that cradled his most sensitive bits. "Already got my cock, pretty slut. What more are you wanting?"

Unspoken was that Spike would give it, if he could. _Mine now, boy, and I take care of mine. Let me know how you want it, and I'll make sure you get it. Oh, not how you're expecting -- wouldn't do that. But gotta let me know, boy. Show me somethin'._

* * *

Xander couldn't help it anymore, his hands flew up to clutch Spike's hips. He held on, held on tight, rocked Spike forward into his mouth and looked up, tried to express it without words. He could never say the words.

 _I want to_ keep _you. I know I never can, stupid to want it, but I can't help it. I want you, Spike -- not just your cock or your words, but you. I want to belong to you, to know that you own me. I can give you what I have; I can be what you need. I'll do it, I'll do anything... anything that doesn't hurt anybody else. Just tell me... tell me I can stay..._

And then he knew the words. He knew what he needed, and it would kill him to say it, but he had to try. Reluctantly, he pulled off of Spike's cock, staying as close as possible without actually sucking him, his lips brushing over the spit-slick skin. "Spike," he carefully pronounced, listening to himself saying it. Brown eyes met blue.

"Tell me you want me?"

* * *

He'd had stakes punched through him before. Not to the heart, obviously, but belly and shoulder and once his thigh -- he knew what it felt like, that moment of resistance that never accomplished anything except more pain as the body prepared for the squelch and the slide and the inside out feeling of something that shouldn't be in you sliding right in, rearranging whatever it needed to push yet deeper.

Something surged in him, sense-memory of what adrenaline felt like pumping through a live body, and Spike _snarled_. Grabbing the boy's head, he slammed that tempting mouth back over his cock, fucking the boy as hard and deep as a near-virgin could take it. "What fucking part of _mine_ did you miss?" he growled, the words punctuated with gasps as he fucked the boy's mouth, riding over a slick tongue and cool, ridged teeth. "Think I'll keep something I don't want?"

Well, yeah, obviously if the boy was still asking.

Lust and need mixed in his belly, turning into cold, condensed rage. "Off," he ordered, tugging on the boy's neck not near as hard as he should have. "Fucking get off! You think I don't want you? You think I'm lying, or under some fucking spell still, and I'll toss you out like yesterday's newspaper?"

* * *

Xander stumbled back against the shower wall, still crouching as he spread his arms wide to catch himself. Spike was flaring above him, glaring down, demanding. Xander levered himself upright, still holding onto the wall for support, even as he felt a matching anger rise in him.

"Do I...? Hello! You're evil! TLC, not your forte!" He was confused and kind of pissed off, but he felt it -- this was it. This was the moment everything stopped being so good and Spike realized what he was doing. Xander shook his head, decided to go get his clothes and get the hell out of here before the yelling started.

* * *

He hadn't gone one step when Spike's hand lashed out, took him by the elbow, spun him 180 degrees and pushed him face-first up against the wall.

Spike covered the boy's back with his body, mouth wet against the boy's ear. "Did I say you could go?" he purred, menace and sex twisted up until they were inseparable. "Said get off, pet, pretty boy who doubts too much. Said _move_ , because obviously you haven't gotten the message yet. But that's okay, innit? That's just peachy."

While he spoke, his hands roamed around the boy's body, finding nipples, squashed up against the tile, but hard and pinchable. A belly that heaved, hips automatically canting out, arse rubbing into Spike's cock, accommodating the fingers that rubbed and stroked the hard muscles there. His mouth was busy on the boy's ear and neck, working up red mark after red mark, his mind frantic as he tried to remember where he'd dropped the damned bottle of shampoo -- not his lube of choice, but at least not harmful to the boy -- and if he could get it without releasing Xander. Since every time Spike let go another of the boy's insecurities surfaced to ruin Spike's perfect early morning fuck.

"You're _mine_ , pretty toy," he promised, voice sinking into skin that shivered and turned into goose flesh despite the heat of the water pounding down on them. "Keeping you, _wanting_ you, and not ever letting you go. Gonna prove it, too, boy. Gonna fuck you so hard you'll feel me for days, give you the reaming you've been begging for. Gonna stake my claim in your body, _Xander_. Gonna make sure you never forget who you belong to."


	8. Chapter 8

The need building with every word Spike said was like pain, desperate and imminent. It spiraled out from his belly to haze his mind, dull his vision and turn his limbs to Jell-o. "Spike," he breathed, writhing against the wall. "Please...?"

Xander edged his feet wider apart and rocked back, feeling the hardness there ready to claim him, the hardness of Spike's whole being. Hands, words, eyes, all of it was unforgiving and demanding and perfect.

He'd choked on words like this his whole life, and Spike was promising to keep him now, to stay... Xander wanted to tell him. "Spike... c-c-can I t-talk?"

* * *

Spike purposefully hesitated, using the moment to find the damned bottle of shampoo -- almost out of reach of his dexterous toes, but he still managed to snag it -- dropping his hand to the boy's cock, fondling it thoughtfully before finally relenting. "Talk, boy," he ordered. "Least till I say to stop again."

* * *

_Well, bunch of fucking good it does me to have permission to talk when your hand's doing... oh, God, doing_ that... 

Didn't look to be stopping anytime soon, though, and Spike said to talk, so Xander gritted his teeth against the pleasure sparking through him and spoke.

"Spike... Spike, I want you. Please. Please, take me. I d-don't know why, or h-how, but if you r-r-really want me... take me, please..."

Xander felt the click of the opening bottle through his whole body. _Oh, fuck, yes..._ He didn't know what Spike had back there and didn't bother to find out -- just reached up to the ledge where the shower ended and open air began, grabbed the edge and held on tight. "Please..."

* * *

"Good boy," Spike praised, allowing the boy to resettle his weight. _Hate using shampoo, stings like a bitch, but the proper stuff is gonna have to wait until later. Not waiting now, not a fucking chance, save that for next time._ Next time, when they were back at the boy's basement and nicely settled in. When Xander finally fucking _believed_.

Two fingers dripping with the thick, syrupy stuff, Spike worked both of them inside the boy. Xander's gasp and arch made him laugh, a low chuckle that he pressed into the boy's shoulder. "Like that, huh?" he asked. "The stretch and burn of it. Like it rough, don't you, boy? _I_ like it, at least. Don't gotta be slow with you, oh no. Just shove my way in deep inside you because you like the hurt, pretty boy. Like whatever I give you cause you're _mine_."

Despite his words, he _did_ make sure the boy was fairly open and relaxed before working the third finger in, and then even a fourth. Xander was still near-virginal and as rough as Spike liked it, he _didn't_ want to truly hurt the boy. Actual pain here would send the boy back to the loving arms of his demon-killing friends, and Spike wasn't going to let that happen if it meant just a few more seconds of work.

* * *

Xander leaned against the cool tile, head to one side, breath ragged and uneven as Spike's fingers stretched him wide, impossibly wide. "Spike," he groaned, unable to be still, squirming and pushing lightly against Spike's touch. "Please don't tease, please... take me..."

* * *

"Think this is teasing? You ain't seen teasing, then, pet. Oh, what I'm gonna do to you." His fingers slid deeper, loving the way muscles clenched and squeezed. "Gonna tie you down, pet. Touch and taste wherever I want. Do whatever I want, 'cause this body is mine to play with. Drive you wild with longing, keep you hanging for _hours_ , boy. Leave you needy and desperate and begging for whatever I'll give. And you'll love it, boy. You'll fucking _crave_ it."

 _Mine, boy. Gonna_ crave _me._

On 'crave', Spike yanked his fingers out, not caring that it'd probably hurt a little, lining up and slamming balls deep by the time he finished exhaling.

* * *

Xander's mouth dropped open, his eyes rolling back as he gasped aloud. He clutched at the wall, feeling Spike's cock slide so deep inside him, the hard body at his back solid and beautiful. 

"F... f... f..." Xander fought the word, tried to get his mouth and tongue and throat to all work together the way they should, but Spike's cock was calling the shots and it was really hard. He tried to breathe, clear the haze of blistering pleasure throbbing through his body for a second.  
"F... f..." Spike slammed into him again, hard, and Xander burst out, "Jesus! Oh, Spike, f-f- _fuck_ me! Please, please fuck me..."

* * *

Spike braced one hand against the slick shower wall, the other yanking at the boy's hips, tugging him further away from the wall so Spike could fuck him all the harder.

"Am fucking you," he promised. "Always _gonna_ , pet. Think I don't want you? Think I'm gonna toss you away, used up and worthless? Got _years_ of this left in you, boy, and I plan on finding every kink, every need, every drop of what makes you tick. Gonna fuck you _raw_ , boy. Fuck you till you can't stand, just clinging to the damned wall while I slam you into it."

* * *

Xander almost laughed. "Bit.. late... for that..." As if to emphasize his point, his knees began to wobble, and he prayed that they wouldn't give out, that they'd hold him long enough... that the freaking _shower_ would hold them long enough...

His cock was twitching in time with his heart, pounding in the same rhythm, desperate for a touch. Xander whimpered, just a little bit, trying to ignore it. And then Spike pulled his hips, and the angle shifted, and that spot deep inside suddenly was being _pummeled_ by Spike's cock and he cried out in surprise and pleasure.

"Oh! Oh, _God,_ Spike, it's... you... have to... tell me... if I c-c-can..."

* * *

_"No."_

It wasn't a snarl, it was a damned _shout_ , but Spike didn't care. He reached around for the boy's cock, squeezing the base of it while he continued to fuck his way deeper and deeper into Xander's body.

"Not yet, pretty, not so soon. Want you _begging_ for it, first. Know what you're gonna tell me? Gonna tell me that I want you. Say it over and over. Say that you're mine, and you know I want you until you fucking _believe_ it."

Privately, Spike wasn't sure just how successful this plan would be. Their feet were starting to slip on tiles, the water cooling around them, and _he_ wasn't sure he would last that long, either. But this was an object lesson and Spike wasn't going to let them stop until he'd gotten at least some satisfaction that it'd been learned.

* * *

_What? Whoa! Time out, no fair!_

Still shaking a little from the shout, from the instant flash of motion that cut him off from the peak he was straining so hard toward, Xander tried to calm down enough to explain about how that made no sense. Unfortunately, this was Spike, and Spike was fucking him hard enough to batter down the clapboard shower stall, hand on Xander's dick and so fucking good...

 _I can't_ , he thought. _I can't lie to him, I don't know it. I can't tell him I believe it... but then,_ Xander reversed, _he doesn't want me to tell him I believe it, just to say it. Say it, oh, hell, yeah, that I can do..._

"Y... you w-want me." His voice sounded tremulous, like he was just trying out the sentence, which he was. Xander tried again. "Y-you want m-me." There. That was a little better. His voice shook with the thrusts, with the hot jets of pleasure that shot through his blood, over his skin, but he'd tried, that's what mattered...

* * *

"Again," Spike ordered. _Say it till it’s lodged so deep in your head that nothin’ll get it out again. Till you wake up with those words in your mind, on your skin, feeling it with every bit of you._ He ran his teeth down the boy's shoulder, studying the pretty red marks that he'd made without ever breaking the skin. "Say it _again_. Wanna hear you believe it, know it in your gut that you're _mine_."

* * *

"You want me," Xander broke out, the hard thrusts forcing the words out of him along with his breath. "You want me," he groaned, sex-words that meant the same thing as 'fuck me' or 'God, it's so good.' "You want me," cried Xander, feeling that Spike definitely wanted him to do _some_ thing, desperate to do whatever it was, to be whatever Spike wanted if only he could be allowed to come...

* * *

Spike bit down, hard enough that the boy sucked in a desperate breath, but none of the rich, coppery liquid he yearned for filled his mouth. Not yet, not when he was still trying to convince the boy that Spike meant what he said.

"I _do_ want you," he told Xander, fucking harder yet. More and they'd fall, or he'd truly hurt Xander, so this was the limit for him. "Want a hot, sweet boy with a mouth that begs for my cock even as it pisses me off. Want this body, tight and willing, dressed up in clothes that'd make a clown cry. Want you insecure and loyal and trusting and oh, fucking _mine_. You get this? Not. Letting. You. Go."

Each word was punctuated with another thrust, hard enough that Xander was shoved up onto his toes with each one. Spike bit again, same pressure as before, his grip on Xander's cock changing from too tight to just right, stripping him to the rhythm of their fucking.

"Say it," he ordered. Red mist formed before his eyes and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. Nor would his boy.

* * *

Spike's words swam in his head, in front of his vision. Almost every word provoked about equal parts 'Hey!' and some emotion he was not about to name. It was slow and liquid and he didn't want to think of it. In this moment, for whatever reason, he believed.

"Have me," he whispered, answering Spike's unspoken demand. "You want me, I know. Take me, Spike..."

* * *

Spike snarled, feral with need but still retaining human cunning. His hand slipped south, grabbing the boy's jouncing balls, kneading them just on the side of rough, before allowing his fingers to slip lower still. He wanted the boy in sensory fucking overload.

"Tell me you're mine," he said. Nimble fingers found the boy's perineum and stroked once, then pressed. "Tell me you're mine and you can come."

* * *

Xander twisted against the fingers pressing against him, desperate for Spike's hand on his cock, Spike's cock deep in him, even for the breath on his neck, just more, please, more...

"Yours, yours, yours, Spike, I'm yours, please..."

* * *

"Good boy." Spike twisted, the bottom of his arm rasping against the boy's cock, trapping it between arm and belly, offering just faint amounts of friction, fingers pressed hard on the perineum, while his dick _slammed_ into the boy's prostate. 

_That’s it, pretty boy. Show me, let me give you presents for being such a sweet little thing…_ "Come," he ordered, wanting to feel the boy shudder and cry out before finally releasing.

* * *

With the words that meant _yes, yes, it's all right, go ahead, I have you, you're mine_ , Xander's muscles flexed and tightened, the bliss rocketing through his body as he let go all restraint and _screamed,_ the orgasm blasting through him. Dimly, he felt plastic crack under his grip, felt Spike's hips smack against his own, everything an insane riot of sound and fury.

* * *

Spike caught the boy as he sagged forward, pulling him closer as he fucked into shuddering, quivering, grasping muscle until his own orgasm ripped through him. He growled, low and long, teeth pressed against the boy's back as he pulsed inside him, filling him, telling him without words that this wasn't just a fuck. Not the one night stand version, at least.

When his hips stopped twitching and his cock finally started to soften, Spike noticed the water falling against them was cold and lacking in anything resembling pressure. _Damn._ "Awake, pet?" he asked.

* * *

"Mmm?" Dimly, Spike's voice was asking him something. Xander tried to open his eyes -- it was tough, but he managed. "Spike?"

* * *

_Not, then. S’all right._ Spike pulled out as gently as he could -- it wasn't very, but he was pretty sure he didn't hurt the boy -- using handfuls of water to clean the boy up before turning off the spigot with his foot.

"Towels," he commanded, hustling the boy over to the scraggly, thin things this motel claimed would dry a person off, rubbing them over the boy first since it wasn't _him_ that worried about pneumonia.

* * *

Xander stumbled out of the shower with Spike, noting the cold almost as soon as it disappeared with Spike's hands and the ‘towels’. He stood, compliant, as Spike did what was necessary, feeling the silly smile on his face but unable to stop it.

"Nap?" he asked groggily.

* * *

Spike considered that. The boy was wavering on his feet, and curling up around that sex-warmed body sounded just fine. Except it was dark enough outside that they could skip out, head back to the boy's place and sleep on ... on a bed no more comfortable than this, but maybe with lube that he wouldn't have to worry about hurting Xander as they used it.

It also included the potential of the boy's friends. _Damn. Gonna actually have to get through to him, get some answers with him not able to do more’n drool. Not that it’s not a pretty picture... Hm._

Climbing on to the bed, Spike stretched out and tugged the boy against him. "No napping yet, boy. Gotta make plans."

* * *

"Kay," Xander murmured, rousing slightly from his post-coital drunkenness to twine himself around Spike's body. "What are we planning?"

At that _precise_ moment? Spike was planning on how to get the boy to suck him off, since it'd been twice now that he'd been prevented from coming in that mouth of his.

He needed a little more time before springing that, though, so he said, "Can't stay here forever, you know." His fingers found wet, curling strands of hair that he toyed with absently. "We'll need food for us both. Better lube."

* * *

Mmm, food good. Pizza. Oh, yeah, pizza'd be good. And then Spike could...

Wait. Would Spike expect to feed on him now? He'd read in more than one book that vampires and humans sometimes did that, the human expected to give their wrist over when whoever it was got thirsty, all depraved and evil and surely in no way sexy. Even in the best of circumstances, he wouldn't be ready right this minute, he'd need time to adjust to the idea. Maybe, like, a needle prick or something first, to warm him up to it, and...

* * *

Spike could practically hear the boy salivating over food he'd gone a good twelve or fifteen hours without, after several fairly body-straining shags. He'd be starving... which should've produced grumbling stomachs.

Not a rise of fear, oily and slick, staining his skin the way fear never used to. Bloody stuff used to be ambrosia, not this tar-thick sludge dirtying the air.

"Hey," he said, probably more sharply than he should've, given the way the boy jerked. "What's got you so upset, huh? Afraid the pizza's are gonna eat you?"

* * *

Xander lifted one eyebrow. "Anybody ever tell you that's really creepy? That... thing, where you can tell what people are thinking just because? Cause, really, creepy."

Off Spike's flat look, Xander raised his hands. "Okay, okay, not bucking the system or anything. Just... I've read about how vampires and humans are if they're... together..." He laughed suddenly. "What do you even _call_ us?"

* * *

_'Food' or 'slaves' probably isn’t gonna go over well. Christ, pet, you think I want to compare you to those starveling things Dru used to keep as long as she remembered she had to feed them or not drink too deep? Not a chance, Xander. I treat mine better than that._ "Pets, usually. And you heard _what_ about vamps and humans that've hooked up?"

* * *

Perversely, Xander pushed his face down beside Spike's body, drawing comfort from being close. From having him nearby, from being permitted to touch him like that.

"Sometimes... sometimes the vampire wants to... well, I guess it's kind of like boyfriend-on-tap, but the _technical_ term I'm sure would be a lot more complicated..."

* * *

Spike allowed the boy to burrow closer, obligingly wrapping his arms around him to complete the feeling. Such a lovely little thing, already understanding that cuddling -- _not very vampiric, but_ I _like it, and it’s me that we’re catering to_ \-- was something he would spend a lot of time doing. Spike was tactile, far more so than most vampires, and he enjoyed the heat of the boy against him.

He enjoyed the chance to play with the boy's body, too, finger's wandering down to stroke at the tip of the boy's crease. "Boyfriend on tap, hm? Is that what you want to be?" He let his voice drop, knowing the boy would _feel_ the words as much as he heard them. "Always ready for me, pet, waiting for me to touch and taste you. Not a lot, oh no. Not a pin cushion. But knowing how much I want that heat inside me... "

* * *

Sparks of arousal drifted lazily through his body at Spike's touch, but the words obscured them. "But... I mean, I just don't know if it's a good idea, what with the scarring and the blood loss and the very, very much _pain_ is also a big deterrent."

* * *

_Poor boy. All little an’ young an’ scared._

Chuckling, Spike rolled so that the boy was on his back, Spike plastered above him. "Is that what you're worried about, hm? Not objecting to me _having_ some, so long as you're okay afterwards? Such a treasure, pet. Beautiful and," he darted down to nip the boy's neck, "edible."

Rocking, slithering, writhing above the boy, cocks pressed together with the barest, maddening hint of friction, Spike laughed again and began peppering kisses over the boy's face and neck. "Blood loss, pretty boy, just means I don't take much, and you start taking iron tabs. Pig's blood gives me the crap I need, so won’t need to take much more than a chaser from you, will I? Give me a taste of ambrosia. Scarring, now, you ever seen vampires with great big scars on their neck, hm? Not hardly, pet. Got a secret, I do, and I'll keep you smooth and beautiful long as I can.

"Now, as for the pain. . ."

Spike attacked the boy's chest, nipping and licking and sucking one area, turning it red and swollen and highly sensitive. _Won’t take much. Can’t. Just a sip, a little bit to show him how fucking magnificent a bite could be. Just a sip . . ._

* * *

"Completely... no... fair..."

Xander rocked back against his assailant, feeling the glorious slide and brush of hot flesh on cool, the velvet of Spike's skin. Spike was maddening him, making him gasp and buck with every grind, every pull of his mouth. Xander groaned deep in his throat, his hands instinctively rising up above his head to give Spike better access, but then...

A little slice of bright pain shot across his senses. In a flash, it was there and gone, and the surprise brought one hand to the back of Spike's head, to grip the short hair there. But before he could do anything, a very warm, placid feeling began to spread through his limbs from the spot on his chest where Spike was grimacing, his head firm against Xander's bone. _Chip must have buzzed him_ , Xander thought, and then all thought disappeared as the firm draw began.

It was a whirlwind through his mind, his body. Everything merged, throbbing hard and pliantly calm, he just held Spike's head to him as languid pleasure seeped into his bones.

"S... S... Spike..."

* * *

It was like wine, smooth and rich, sending his head buzzing with a thousand wings, the slow build of heady pleasure leaving him soaring. Just a little, just a touch, a tiny taste, a trifle. All Spike needed to do was show him how good it was. Worth the slight jolt of the chip to find that floating, flying feeling of giving up, letting go. Trusting. Trusting _Spike_.

 _Taste so good, boy, so fucking good._ Fuck, was he hard again.

Another pull -- not deep, never deep, couldn't, not yet -- and Spike carefully laved over the bite, stopping the bleeding and letting the wound seal itself. There'd be faint, barely-there scars by the time it healed, which'd be soon, the way Spike had prepped him. Nicely done, if he did say so himself.

Finding a warm, heavy thigh to rock against, Spike trailed a wet path from bite to nipple, nipping it lightly. "So. Definitely not doing that again, are we?"

* * *

Xander panted in the aftershocks. The warmth, the helplessness, the sensation again of Spike being _in_ him... God, it was almost too much. Terrifying and insanely exciting.

"Shut up," he shivered as Spike's teeth scraped over his nipple, the phrase as natural as breathing. "Oh, God, Spike, can we... I need you again, please..." He rocked up against the hard body, his cock throbbing for the want of a touch, his head back against the pillows as the arousal poured through him, all flowing from those two dots of glowing red on his chest.

* * *

Spike rolled onto his back again, smirking at the hot, horny boy beside him. It was a bit soon, given how hard he’d come not twenty minutes before, and Spike knew the boy would be _exhausted_ later, dehydrated and starving -- _but that’s for when I get him home, see what that roach-infested hovel of a basement can provide, then see about getting the rest. Oh yes, boy, ’m gonna coddle you. Wrap you in swaddling so you never want to leave._ "C'mere, pet. Gonna finish up our little chat, you'n me, and then I'll let you sink down on my cock, mouth or arse, up to you."

* * *

Xander blinked at him, totally lost. They'd been talking? _Why?_

"Huh?"

* * *

Spike tugged, manhandling the boy so his head was on Spike's thigh, his arse near Spike's shoulder and in perfect position for playing. It probably wasn't _comfortable_ for Xander, but he didn't look like he was hurting -- thank Christ their torso's were about the same size and it was just Xander's legs that were so damned long, or it would've been impossible.

"Had some questions, didn't you?" he asked. He started stroking and kneading the boy's arse, occasionally reaching down to card the boy's hair from his face. Warm breath ghosted over his erection, but Spike ignored that. "’Bout food, specifically the feeding of me?"

* * *

"How about the feeding of _me_ ," Xander suggested, trying to angle his head so he could get Spike's cock into his mouth. In this position, he could see pretty much nothing but the lower parts of Spike, and the burning points on his chest told him (apropos of nothing) that he was very interested in Spike's lower parts.

* * *

_One track mind, this one. Nice._

Chuckling, Spike abandoned his perusal of the boy's arse to grip now-dried locks and hold the boy's head still. "Not till you have permission, boy. And we're talking about what happens once we go through those doors. Need a bit of reassurance, I do. Am I going to have to chase you down, remind you again of who you belong to?"

* * *

Xander paused, caught in Spike's grip. "Probably," he admitted. "Maybe not so much with the chasing, but the reminding... yeah. Yeah, that's probably going to be needed." A mischievous impulse seized him, and he pushed his dripping cock into Spike's side. "Frequently."

* * *

Spike growled, tightening his grip in the boy's hair until the chip gave a warning sizzle, grabbing the boy's cock with the other hand so tightly he got an actual _jolt_.

"Wrong answer, pet. Will I have to chase you down, then play hide-and-stake-Spike with your friends?"

* * *

"What?" Xander exclaimed, suddenly very nervous, frozen in place with Spike's hand gripping him hard both top and bottom. "What do you mean? What exactly are we talking about here? I won't run, I won't, I want to stay with you, but I know I'm gonna get nervous about whether or not you really want to be with me and I can try to hide it but you will so totally growl at me if I do and don't even pretend you won't! What about my friends? What?"

Oh, yes. This is Xander. This is Xander in full freak out mode. Any questions?

* * *

Spike relaxed his hold on the boy's cock -- didn't want to hurt him, really, just needed to make a point -- rubbing his thumb over the silken strands of hair caught between his knuckles. "Relax, pet. Figured on you bein' nervous and insecure, and I'm _more_ than happy to remind you that you're mine, and you're stayin' mine. Just didn't want your goody good friends to come at me with a stake, you hidin’ behind them."

And it still might come to that. Spike's persuasiveness was nil against that crowd, and the boy wasn't exactly an orator born. But so long as Xander wasn't _willingly_ switching sides, Spike was content. More than. _Gonna fight for you, boy. Show ’em I’m not hurting you – unwillingly or much, anyway – and that you want this as much as I do._

"And after this," he continued, starting to flex his fist so the boy's hair was pulled in a slow, rhythmic motion that made the boy's cock twitch and quiver. "We're going back to your place, least as long as it takes for me to find you someplace better, yeah?"

* * *

"And again... I say... not fair..."

Xander's breath was coming sharper, Spike's hand rubbing through the beads of pre-come, slipping so good, and every damn time Spike did that, Xander's brain dissolved into _huhwhayeahsurefinewhatever_ just so long as it kept happening. Dammit. He was never gonna win an argument ever unless he kept his pants on. This would be important... later. Some time when Spike wasn't doing... that...

"Can we stop... talking now?"


	9. Chapter 9

Spike chuckled and released the boy entirely. Folding his hands behind his head, he smirked even though he knew the boy couldn't see the expression. He'd hear it.

"Pet's choice," he said magnanimously. _Show me, pet. Prove to_ me _that you’re not just a pain-slut taking the first bit that’s offered to you._ "Whichever way you want it, boy."

* * *

Instantly, Xander blushed beet red. He knew what he wanted, but he'd never hear the end of it if... oh, hell. He'd never hear the end of it anyway, Spike already knew his kink. Might as well...

Nevertheless, he hid his face against Spike's thigh as he muttered his request.

"Maybe... like we did the first time? You go stand over there and I..."

* * *

Beautiful, beautiful boy. Spike wanted to dress him up in leather and jewels, parade him about for the world to see. Willing and beautiful, submissive as a trained pet ever could be, and all on his own.

Magnificent.

Spike slithered free of the boy's body, making certain to rub and even kiss as he got to his feet. "Here?" he asked, leaning shoulders against the wall, hips cocked.

* * *

So beautiful, laid out over the wall, powerful and shining even in the low lamplight. "Yeah..." Xander said, hearing how his voice got low and husky, the need to do what he was about to do making his mouth water.

In one simple movement, he hit the floor, shuffling forward on his knees until he reached Spike's feet. Every moment, his eyes were locked on the long, hard body in front of him; the strong thighs, flat belly, white skin, and the hard, thick cock that stood proud and full. Waiting for him.

He thought for a split second about how to do this. When the answer occurred to him, he smiled, realizing how perfect it was. Xander sat back on his heels, spread his knees wide apart, clasped his hands behind his back for balance, and then looked up at Spike and slowly, deliberately licked his lips.

* * *

If Spike were a lesser vampire, a picture like that would make him come. He wasn't a lesser vampire, but he _still_ had to struggle a bit, breath turning heated in his mouth as he controlled his body.

"Perfect," he breathed, unable to stop it. "A natural, pet, don't need any training at all. And all _mine_." The final word was a growl, ferocious and unintelligible if one hadn't listened to him repeat that word over and over for the past day.

Pushing off smoothly from the wall, Spike sauntered the required two steps closer to the boy. He dragged a toe along the boy's erection, eyes locked on Xander’s black-swallowed-brown. "Want me to take you, is that it? Push in and fuck your mouth till it aches from the size of me?"

* * *

Xander shivered, all over, his mouth falling open and breath whooshing out of his lungs. Oh, _God,_ he wanted that. So much, too much, now, now, now.

"Spike," he said, and it was pleading, begging, the name of what he wanted, exactly right, for so long, too long now. Every minute Spike was not touching him was a minute too much.

* * *

His back arched, cock bobbing the last few inches to brush over the boy's mouth. Pre-come smeared, silvery, gleaming lines painted over lips and cheek, marking the boy. "Such a good boy. A hungry little slut," he added, knowing it made the boy shiver even harder.

* * *

"Hungry," Xander breathed in agreement, tongue flicking out to draw in the precious taste. It spread over his tongue like fireworks, like Fourth of July. Excitement, awe, little bit of danger. Spike.

He opened his mouth wide, but didn't move any further forward -- that was for Spike to do, if he would.

* * *

He wanted to draw it out, tease the boy into desperate need -- except _he_ was already there. _Christ, what you do to me, greedy boy. Perfect and mine._

With a groan of satisfaction, Spike pushed his cock into Xander's mouth, not stopping until the head stopped against the back of Xander’s throat. "Oh, fuck yes."

* * *

Every inch that Spike gave him, Xander worshiped. Every time Spike did this, he loved it more: to be used like this, to be taken, to have a thing he could do that would make Spike -- _Spike!_ \-- shiver and groan and let Xander feel the tremble in his fingers when he threaded them into Xander's hair. It tasted good. Better every time. Like sea, like fall, like fruit so ripe it would almost drop off the vine. Xander sucked and swirled his tongue, groaning low in his throat, trying to ignore the throbbing of his own cock below.

* * *

Ask him which he loved best about this boy at his feet -- _willing, hell, fucking_ wanting! -- and he wouldn't be able to answer: the feel of his mouth, rainforest hot and wet, sucking like this was the first bit of food he'd had in weeks and wanted to savor each burst of it; the sight of him, eyes half-closed, cheeks splashed with red as he held himself open and available; the scent of him, wanting, wanting so badly that Spike knew the boy would be coming when he did, no touch required; the _sounds_ of him, gasping and choking, groaning, breathless as Spike stole his air, again and again, him loving it more each damned time.

"Fuck," Spike said, because he didn't know how to say anything else. "Oh, _fuck_."

There was no control. He couldn't hold himself back, make himself gentle as he rode into the boy's mouth over and over. There was only fucking, using the boy's oh so willing body to find pleasure they both could share in. _Perfect little bottom boy, already trained. Should be wondering who the hell taught him this or if he's truly a natural. Hell, should be wondering why no one's snapped him up before._

Not that anyone else would ever get that chance now.

"Beautiful," he murmured, broken and breathless. "So fucking beautiful on your knees, boy. My pretty little bitch."

* * *

_It works, I knew it would. You want me to be like this, just to hold myself for you and not think that I have a choice or will or anything. I know it. I read it. One time ever that being research guy paid off -- I used to think the books were old and dusty and boring like math until late one night when we were looking up stuff about you, because you were new and you said those things to Buffy behind the Bronze and we had to know. I read about you, and about vampires and about how you were depraved and all vamp-instinct all the time. And then we looked up vamp instincts and it said this... it said other stuff too, about sires and crap like that, but I couldn't use that. I thought of it then, of how I could do this if you ever caught me, how I could stay alive until Buffy found me, and then one night I was jerking off and I thought of it and it hasn't been the same since, you haven't been the same since, never..._

Xander was trembling on his knees, hands clasped hard behind his back, his whole body shivering with need. He'd never thought, in all the time between that night of research and this moment, that Spike would ever be tender or gentle with him. When he'd thought of this moment, he'd been sure there would be pain, because Spike would have gotten the chip out and he was a _vampire_ , for Christ's sake. But this... he never could have predicted.

He was so close to coming, just from the feel of Spike's cock in his mouth, the burn of the carpet on his knees... he could feel the heat in the pit of his stomach, the breathless urge to just pull one of his hands around, just one, and finish it. His grip on his own fingers slackened, then loosed, and then his hands were hanging by his sides. Xander shivered, feeling them loose, like some shameful secret, if he could just manage without Spike noticing...

* * *

Spike couldn't stop touching. Xander's cheeks, so hot they felt like raw flame against his fingers, his eyes and ears, twisted knots of hair, his jaw, rough with stubble, his neck working as Spike pushed in and out. Spike wanted him _all_ , to take all of this giving little whore of a boy and bind him to Spike permanently. To eat him, devour every part of him.

Palms flat over cheeks that flared and collapsed with every moment, Spike moved the boy's head, positioning it where he wanted. _Look at me,_ he wanted to say but didn't. _Come on, pretty, look at me, give it all. Give me every fucking molecule of you._

And then, suddenly, Xander _did_. Eyes black in the shadows, wide and wanting, met his. "Yesss," Spike hissed, loving the ache he read there. "Gonna come in you, pretty. Gonna give you every bit of -- oh, fuck -- what you've been wanting. And when I do, you're gonna come, too, aren't you? Don't need a touch, not from me or you. Just need this taste, the feel of it filling you up, marking you inside and out. Ready, boy? Show me you're fucking ready."

* * *

Xander closed his eyes for just a moment, almost in pain right there from the instruction not to touch. _I don't know if I can, don't know if it'll work, please, Spike..._

When he opened his eyes again, when the blackness rolled back and he looked up the long, hard, pale body to see Spike's brilliant eyes burning down at him, intent and full of sex and need, Xander pled with his whole being, sucking as hard as he dared. _God, please,_ please. _The second I feel you coming, the moment I know I've done that, I can come, and I need to come so_ badly, _Spike, please..._

* * *

His left hand dripped south, to curl around the boy's neck. He wasn't squeezing, he wasn't interested in that kink and didn't want to frighten his boy into thinking he was. He was just holding, cradling sweaty flesh in his cupped hand, thumb rubbing along a flexing tendon as he kept his eyes on the boy.

 _Trust me_ , he thought, almost smirking at the flare of panic he saw. _Trust me, boy. Gonna take care of you, pet. Gonna keep you as mine, make sure you never fucking want to leave._

"Good boy," he purred. "That's my pretty boy."

Working himself briefly harder, faster, Spike let his head fall back -- and came. Filled the boy's mouth with his spunk, crying out as the orgasm dragged knives through his gut, blinding him. At the very last moment he tugged free of the boy's sucking, swallowing mouth, pumping the last of it over swollen pink lips until it dripped down the boy's chin. _"Mine,"_ he growled.

* * *

Xander exploded. The coppery, salt taste flooding his tongue, the twitch of Spike's cock against his lips and the roof of his mouth, the _sound_ he made when he... Xander couldn't take it. His arms fell back, his fingers trailing on the carpet as his hips thrust up against empty air, and when Spike pulled back and marked him with the last of it, Xander's mouth opened wide as the force of the orgasm tore through him, shaking his body like a rag doll. He felt the hot liquid against his belly and chest, sharp against the cooler taste in his mouth, on his lips, jerking his mind in two directions at once. It was too much to handle, too much to take in all at once, the ecstasy ripping through him, softening him, and then a long, loud cry reached his ears just before he fell, knowing nothing, into darkness.

* * *

Spike trailed his fingers over the boy's skin. He was still unconscious, now almost ten minutes afterwards. _Poor boy. Gonna have to teach him better stamina._ Though it _was_ nice to see him slump like that, mouth slick-shiny from Spike's release, his body stained with his own pleasure. Spike had cleaned him up and laid him out on the bed, curling around that warmth, the soft skin overlaying surprisingly hard muscle.

"Still there, boy?" he asked eventually. The heart rate was even, his breathing slow and steady, so Spike wasn't worried about damage. He was, however, bored. "C'mon back, boy, back to me now."

* * *

"Mmm..." Xander turned his face toward the source of the low rumble, feeling a dreamy lassitude through his whole body. It felt... good.

"'M here. Xander reporting for duty..." His voice was slurred, and he smiled, feeling silly.

* * *

"Duty, hm?" Spike chuckled and leaned forward, drawing his tongue over Xander's cheek, tasting sweat-salty skin and his own distinct flavor. _Mm. Two of us taste fucking fantastic together._ "Come on, then. Open your eyes. Still sound a bit shell-shocked."

* * *

"'M fine," he smiled, edging up closer to the sensation of cool slipping over his skin. He opened his eyes to shining blond hair and brilliant blue eyes. "Spike," he sighed happily, wrapping an arm over Spike's ribs. "I just came without actually touching myself. I know I'm a teenager, but, man, you oughta come with some kind of warning."

* * *

That provoked a genuine laugh, lighter and freer than any since -- since before Dru got sick. Maybe even earlier. "Didn't think it could be done, yeah? Good thing you've got me to teach you, then, innit?"

* * *

"Yeah," Xander grinned, leaning in to taste and be tasted. "I guess it is."

* * *

_Mm. Likes being touched this way. ‘S Good._

Spike licked Xander's chin clean before spending a lot of time on full, soft lips that grew fuller as he licked and nipped them clean before allowing the boy to share in the taste. Xander kissed back eagerly, perfectly calm and compliant.

* * *

They pulled apart slowly, gently. Xander looked up at his lover, resting his head on Spike's arm. He felt open, a little frightened.

"Spike... what about the thing where you're evil? This can't be as simple as this, can it? Just... you stop doing evil things because I'm here, and then it's all okay?"

* * *

He'd been hoping ... _but my boy's not stupid, for all he sometimes forgets that. Right. Question and answer time, just a little later than when I wanted it._

"Well, not doin' anything that evil now, am I?" he temporized. Patterns only Spike could see bloomed on Xander's skin, his fingers tracing them. "Other than debauching willing, beautiful boys that is."

* * *

"No," Xander smiled, "but as you so vocally point out every time we get within sixty feet of you, you _are_ evil. Kind of stands to reason, the _doing_ of the evil."

* * *

"Have I done anything evil since I've been back?" It shocked him, how quietly intense his words were. "Truly evil?"

* * *

"Tried to kill Buffy when you had the Gem of Amarra.”

* * *

Oh. Right. That.

But Xander wasn't moving away, and his voice sounded amused, undercurrents of raspberry and toffee instead of the harsh disgust of bitter coffee dregs. "Well, besides that," he blustered, rolling slightly away so he could look at the ceiling. Much safer, there. "Since I've been ... chipped."

* * *

Xander easily rolled with him, grinning now. "You've been "chipped" for about two weeks, Spike. So, no, nothing I know of."

* * *

"Well, then, there you go. I'm two weeks safe, where's my bloody card or coin or whatever the hell it is."

* * *

Xander sprawled across his chest, smiling down into his face. "Not that simple, my fanged friend. You should probably be aware that I will fight you a lot about this evil thing. Y'know, if you do evil. I might like the..." He blushed and paused, remembering. "... the things we do together... but that doesn't mean I'm just rolling over on this evil thing! Consider me un-rolled!"

* * *

Spike stared. His eyes crossed, but he didn't stop staring at that silly grin beneath darkly serious eyes. "You're insane," he said matter-of-factly. "But the point is, I _can't_ do anything more evil than ... than make faces at puppies or something. So we don't have to worry about it, do we?"

It was a cop-out. They _did_ have to worry, because Spike was going to find a way to get the god-sodding thing out of his head. And when he did, Xander would _still_ be his, no change there. _Except everything changes. And aren't we jumpin' the gun a mite quick here? He may get sick of me and want me staked by week’s end._ Doubtful, given what he knew of one Xander Harris, but likely. As likely as him getting the chip out at week’s end.

Spike didn't mention it, though. Instead he leaned up for the long, slow kisses he was starting to enjoy.

* * *

Xander met Spike's mouth, unable to help himself. He was trying not to drown in the taste, in Spike's control and cool assurance, the feeling so good. "You... are going... to do evil... evil things... and I ... will not b... be putting up... with that."

* * *

Spike bit the boy's lower lip hard enough to draw out a gasp and sizzle in his brain. "Well, then," he said silkily. "Just make sure I have to do those evil things to _you_ and you alone."

* * *

"Mmm... I mean, hey, _ow!"_ Xander flicked his tongue out to soothe the sting at his lip, touched it with his finger. There was no blood, so Xander settled for pouting. "Watch it with those teeth, there, bitey."

* * *

"You _mean_ ow?" Spike teased. "Cute, pet. Very cute."

* * *

"My body is dumb. I freely admit this." Xander levered himself up, sat down cross-legged on the bed and smiled at Spike, still touching his finger to the sore lip. "It doesn't know what's good for it. Sometimes it does the very, very stupid without my permission at all."

* * *

Tucking his hands behind his head, Spike debated for roughly two seconds. Then he kicked -- lightly -- against the boy's hip. "You reassured, then?"

* * *

Xander flashed a grin and then assumed a thoughtful face. "If, by that, you mean 'do I think you're going to take off as soon as we step outside,' then yes. If, on the other hand, you mean 'believe you unquestioningly', I think I'd really have to go with a no on that one..."

* * *

Spike kicked again, slightly harder. "Berk. Not what I was asking, and you know it." _Come on. Just say it, so we can move the fuck on from this._

* * *

Xander ducked his head, smiling shyly. "Yeah, okay, I guess. I mean, I... you said you wanted to keep me, and if... if you do, then you probably want to not do things that'll make me leave. Not so, so bad things, I mean. I get that. Is... is that what you wanted?"

* * *

_Close the fucking ‘nough._

Jackknifing up, Spike dived at the boy, tugging him onto the bed, onto his back. Kisses were pressed against his face -- eyes, cheekbones, nose, and then finally mouth. "Mine," he growled, knowing that so long as he was chipped -- at least that long -- 'mine' meant 'yours' just as much. Spike couldn't just take. _Don't want to just take, never did. I'd much rather be given._

* * *

Xander smiled fleetingly, too caught up in the rush of adrenaline and lust from Spike's swift moves. "Y'know," he said breathlessly, grinding up against the long body that held him, his toes curling in the sheets. "If we were ever gonna leave this hotel room..."

* * *

"Mm. Should get some food for you." Spike's hand snaked over smooth skin, curling around a buttock to glance a finger in between. "Some lube ... "

He stilled, loving the way lust and something Spike wasn't sure he could identify shone up at him. _Affection. Like he's fond of me or ..._

Another kiss, this one oddly chaste compared to the Skinemax rated kisses Spike preferred. "Let's go."

* * *

Xander grinned and stood, pulling his clothes on and tossing Spike's to him. He felt great. "Food, lube, good to go. I always knew you were a simple guy, I just didn't know how simple. Ooh, double edge there. See how that went?"

* * *

Dressing, Spike timed it so that as the shirt settled over his boy's shoulders, Spike's hand connected with the back of Xander's head.

"No puns," he ordered. "That's rule number -- er, four I think. Don't mind your shoddy excuse for humor, but there will be _no_ puns."

* * *

"Hey, I like the puns," Xander smiled, gathering up the few things they had left in the hotel and pocketing them as they headed for the door. "Let's just say you want to take me home, find that lube and then fuck me into next week. Then you'd be a vampire with a _goal_. Get it?"

* * *

Spike glared, growling lightly under his breath. A greasy looking patron glanced over at them, blanched, and hurriedly turned back to his door when Spike _really_ snarled at him.

No car, but then it wasn't a bad night for a walk. The air felt crisp and clean, nothing like the normal California heat that usually enveloped the town. The sky was dark, spangled with stars, and free of cloud cover. He'd have to do something very nice for Willow, eventually. _Maybe magic ingredients? Think I can get her some rare ones. Need to say 'thank you', like a good lad. Best spell she's ever botched._ Spike looked up, watching the night sky, slipping an arm around the boy's waist as they walked.

And then let his fingers go even lower.

"Obviously," he said, "I'll need to start _this_ training right away. I think I know just the method. How would you like to be strapped down on some cushions and spanked every time you make one of those god-awful puns, hm?"

* * *

Xander drifted, smile unwavering as he fell into step beside Spike, easily, naturally. "Spanking involves your hand and my ass, right? Because I'm failing to see the bad here." Straps, even. Score.

* * *

Spike squeezed Xander’s hip, smiling serenely as he stared out at the street. He carefully shaded his voice with the right amounts of authority and wickedness as he led Xander toward town, back to the Scoobies and the basement -- back to his new life.

"Not _yet_ you aren't."


End file.
